


Dante's Stars

by Pretani



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst and Romance, Blood and Violence, Brother/Sister Incest, Danger, F/M, Fake Marriage Real Feelings, Future Fic, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Suspense, movieverse, with elements of Bookverse/TV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-01 13:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 94,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10190579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pretani/pseuds/Pretani
Summary: The Baudelaires are on the run in the last months before Violet's 18th birthday.





	1. Prologue

Dante's Stars

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of these characters and make no profit from this story.

* * *

 

The Baudelaires were dead.

"A horrible calamity," the headlines screamed. "A capsized ferry." Thirty people had drowned, including two teenagers and a small child- the Baudelaire orphans.

The newspapers had published their names in a list of the deceased, yet he could not quite believe they were gone. And so he had come to see for himself. He adjusted the collar of his trench coat as he stood in the lingering trails of fog at the water's edge. He'd always been fond of the docks, the haze of smoky gloom and the nameless, itinerant sailors who asked no questions of him. Now he could only wait, watching as the rescue crews dredged the black water with nets, like morbid fishermen, and brought in corpse after corpse. But there were no children, no young people, among the deceased.

Another boat pulled into the harbor, with still more rescuers and victims of the accident. "That's the last of them," one of the disembarking workers remarked.

"You're certain there are no more?" he asked, with a concern that seemed genuine to the weary crewmen.

" 'Fraid not. The ones we didn't find were washed out to sea. It's a damn shame."

"Such a waste," he agreed, apparently lost in thought.

The mariners left him then, off to drink away the day's sorrow in a nearby pub. And he was alone.

"A waste indeed," he grumbled to himself. His tireless search for those impudent brats, who managed to evade him time and again; the many sleepless nights he'd spent devising his plans to snare them; the crafty disguises he'd so masterfully fashioned. All had come to nothing, as useless as the rickety hulk of a ferry that still remained, half-submerged, in the choppy water.

A cold wind blew over the shipyard, and he left the grisly scene in apathy. At length, he reached the end of the piers, where a labyrinth of narrow roads and alleyways led back into the heart of the city.

He was about to turn down one dark street when his gaze was drawn to an old, wooden storage shed, not two yards from where he stood. In the dying light, something fluttered on the rough planks of the shed wall, catching his eye- a black satin ribbon, snagged on a protruding nail. The ribbon flapped about in the air like a fish trapped in a net, and he moved to seize hold of it.

Upon examining the flimsy bit of fabric, he grinned. And his shiny, shiny eyes were full of malevolent triumph, thinking of a lovely, if troublesome, girl who owned just such a ribbon.

Curiously, this one even bore the same frayed edges and slight rips in three places. He laid it across the fingers of his right hand, palm turned upward; exactly where he'd once grabbed it, to tear it from her smooth, auburn hair. He still remembered her cry and the frightened look in her eyes, though it had been fleeting.

Violet Baudelaire would never fear for herself as much as she feared for her siblings. They were all three the same, so foolishly loyal to one another, so predictably selfless. It was the fatal flaw in the Baudelaire's alliance, a weakness that had proven quite useful to him before. Threaten the life of one and the others would do as he wished; it was simple enough. If Violet lived, he did not doubt that Klaus and Sunny would be with her.

He held the ribbon to his nose, inhaled the scent of sand and salty seawater... and her. This ribbon belonged to Violet, as sure as the bleak night that descended around him now. How had it come to be here, so far from the site of the accident? _There were no children among the recovered dead..._

Now, as he looked closer, he could see three sets of footprints in the mud and the sand, footprints trailing from the water's edge into the dank, dark alley behind him. One set was tiny- made by a child, no doubt. It ended near the very spot where he'd found the ribbon. There were two small imprints, like skid marks on the muddy ground, as though the youngster had been picked up in a hurry.

"So, they thought they could fool me," he muttered to himself, giving off the appearance of a man deranged. With a harsh laugh, he stuffed the ribbon into his coat pocket. It belonged to him now, just as she would. Perhaps, in his gracious generosity, he might return it to her...as a wedding gift...

Thoughts of Violet swirled in his head. The pure white wedding dress she'd worn that day...The way her eyes had glistened with tears...His own jubilation as he'd waved the marriage certificate before the audience, knowing that he would have the girl and her fortune and no one would stop him...

But then the document turned to ash in his hand, and the face of her brother was there, grinning victoriously behind a huge glass eye.

How ironic, he mused, that his own fire-starting device had been turned against him. What terrible humiliations he'd suffered because of those children; to have victory so near, only to see his designs thwarted again and again.

This time would be different. There would be no more disguises, no more failures...

He had scant knowledge of their whereabouts, but this concerned him little. Only death could put the Baudelaires beyond his reach. And they were very much alive.


	2. Disappear

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.

Warnings: None as of yet. Will be V/K eventually.

* * *

 

Disappear

You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last.  
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast.

\- Bob Dylan "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue"

* * *

 

It was almost too easy to disappear, Klaus thought, as he followed Violet's speeding form down the dark alleyway. He wondered how she could run so fleetly in her heavy, water-logged skirt. They were all soaking wet and chilled to the bone. From his readings on outdoor survival, he knew all about the dangers of hypothermia, but there was no time to worry about that at the moment.

He would've been faster if not for the large suitcase he carried, which, incidentally, was also dripping with seawater. The bag contained everything they owned, and he was not about to leave it behind.

"Come on, Klaus. We have to hurry." Violet paused to wait for him, readjusting Sunny in her arms.

When he caught up, she led the three of them down a narrow side street, turning left, then right, then left again.

"Where are we going?" he asked her as they ran.

"Away from here," she said. "If we can just get to the train station-"

Violet stopped short as the alley came to an end, and Klaus almost collided with her. His hand shot out automatically, grabbed her waist to keep her from tumbling into the sidewalk.

"Klaus! You need to watch out!" She sounded exhausted.

"I'm sorry." He could feel blood rushing to his face. _I'm just embarrassed,_ he told himself. _We can't afford to make mistakes, especially not now._

Violet pushed a few strands of wet hair out of her eyes. "It's alright," she answered, regretting her outburst. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Look, Violet, look," Sunny pointed ahead, and Violet's gaze was drawn to the large, busy thoroughfare before them.

Her brother came to stand at her side, taking in the scene. On the street there was a medley of activity. Traffic raced through the intersection at breakneck speeds and scores of pedestrians rushed quickly by, indifferent to their condition. Faintly, he could make out the sounds of a street band playing jazz music somewhere.

At one time, they might've been in that crowd. They might've gone down a conventional road, finding comfort in school and work and leading stable, predictable lives. But that was before they had been left to fend for themselves, before the fire.

Now, the Baudelaires observed the colorful atmosphere with the eyes of outsiders, far removed from the safe, tidy, lives of these seemingly fortunate people.

A pang of regret hit Klaus when he saw the expression on Violet's face, the slight crease in her forehead. He'd become adept at reading the subtle signs of emotion in her features. It wasn't like his sister to be envious, no matter how bad their own circumstances were. But for a moment, he knew, she wanted to be part of that other world.

"Do you think they're very different from us?" Violet wondered aloud.

"Yeah," he said wryly, "They're not supposed to be dead."

His comment brought her back to the problem at hand.

"Klaus, we have to find a way to the train station."

"And then what?"

"I don't know yet," she said wearily. "I don't know."

He shuffled his feet, unsure of how to respond. His sister seemed so depleted lately, her lively eyes grown dull and distant, as if she were losing the will to go on. The change worried him more than he could say.

In the ensuing silence, they both noticed the absence of Sunny's ever-present chatter. At four years old, she possessed a command of the English language that would've made Aunt Josephine proud. But she was quiet now, and her siblings eyed her with concern.

The little girl merely held onto Violet, shivering with cold. "Oh Sunny," Violet hugged her. "You're such a brave girl."

She shared a knowing look with Klaus. They would need a place to rest and dry off, and soon. First they had to get out of the city- too many people here, too much risk of discovery.

"What time is it?" Violet looked to him expectantly. It seemed they had been running forever.

Klaus took out his pocket watch. He had not checked it since before they left the ferry, and he saw now that it had sustained some damage. Moisture had seeped inside through a small crack in the glass. The mechanisms no longer worked.

He shrugged it off without much thought. He didn't form strong attachments to material objects, not since the fire.

However, there was one item that Klaus had to admit he would hate to lose: the spyglass. He was glad that Violet had sewn it into the interior lining of his jacket before they'd boarded the ferry. She always thought of things like that.

"Well," he held up the broken timepiece, a few stray shafts of sunlight glittering on the tarnished gold and glass. "This won't be much help."

"I'll see if I can fix it later," Violet said.

Tall, gray buildings were clustered all around them, blocking out the sky. But from where the Baudelaires stood, they could see shadows cast by the immense structures, by the whirlwind of cars and people.

"Look at the shadows. I think it must be late afternoon already," Klaus reasoned, judging by the position of the sun.

And then he saw something more important. "Violet, over there," he pointed ahead. "A trolley. It's headed east, I think."

The streetcar ground to a halt at the intersection, stopped at a red light. "There's our ride to the train station," Klaus said. "Come on."

He picked up their suitcase once more and sprinted off.

"Klaus," she chased after him, still carrying Sunny. "We don't have money for the fare."

"You don't want to walk to the trains, do you?"

"Humph," she sighed in exasperation. "What are you thinking?"

But he didn't hear her. Klaus had already reached the stoplight, and was heading down the crosswalk, toward the trolley.

"Please...please...wait sir," he called to the conductor, his lungs gasping for air. He grabbed hold of the bright red rail bars in the entryway, as if to stop the trolley himself. "My sisters are coming. We need a ride."

The conductor, a severe-looking, older man, scowled at him. "This is not a boarding stop. You can't just jump on a streetcar whenever you please," he said irritably.

The middle Baudelaire could guess what he was thinking. Here was another careless,

trouble-making teenager, trying to con him into a free ride.

"Please," Klaus persisted. "We can pay our way." Violet and Sunny were beside him then. He ushered them onto the trolley, ignoring the driver's protests. "How much?"

He saw the look of shock on Violet's face as he pulled a handful of coins and a damp wad of bills from his pocket. Her disappointment was palpable, and shame stung like needles under his skin. _I should have told her._

The stoplight was about to change. " Oh very well," the conductor grumbled after Klaus presented him with the proper amount. "I suppose it's all right, just this once."

"Over here, Klaus," his little sister waved, as she and Violet slid over on the seat to make room for him. Still lugging the suitcase, he made his way over and dropped down next to Sunny, thankful for a few minutes of rest.

Violet was studying him closely, as if she had never seen him before. _Where did that money come from?_

He sighed, staring straight ahead so he wouldn't see the question in her eyes. _I can't face her now. Maybe later...not now._

Sunny fidgeted in the seat between them, uncomfortable in her drenched clothing. "Violet, where are we going?"

"To the train station, remember?" Violet said.

"I know, but where are we _going,"_ she asked emphatically. "On the train. Where?"

Sunny's blond curls hadn't dried yet, and were plastered to her cheeks from their mad dash to the trolley. Violet brushed her hair back. "We'll see."

Bored and restless, Sunny looked at Klaus, who was acting strangely, as if there were something interesting in the front of the bus. She followed his eyes, and seeing nothing, she observed the other passengers. A well-dressed elderly woman sat across the aisle from them, clutching a large purse and a small, fluffy white dog.

In the seat behind the old lady, there was an overweight bald man in a green shirt and jeans. _Too small for him_ , she thought. _I hope I never have to wear clothes that are too small._ A man with dark hair came and sat next to the bald man then. He was big and bulky, dressed all in black, and he was staring right at her!

Sunny looked away instantly, facing straight ahead as if she'd been doing that the whole time. Cautiously, she peeked over the seat again, to find him still staring.

"Hey," she whispered, tapping on her brother and sister to get their attention. "That man over there is watching us."

Klaus and Violet looked briefly in the direction she had indicated.

"What man?" Violet asked her.

"Next to the bald guy in the green shirt. He's wearing black. Do you see him?" There was an odd blankness in his eyes that unsettled her. She didn't want to look back there again.

"I don't see anyone, Sunny." Violet said.

Klaus shook his head. "Are you sure he was sitting there?"

"I am sure," she told them. "He was right there."

She glanced backward, to show them once and for all. But there was only the bald man with the green shirt.

"He's gone," she said, confused. "He was right there, and he was looking at us."

"Maybe he moved because you were staring at him," Klaus suggested.

"No, he was watching us. I know he was." She felt upset.

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Violet said kindly. "He isn't there anymore. Let's not worry about him."

The ride was long. Sunny soon forgot about the man in black, and began to wish that she could get up and stretch her legs. She played absentmindedly with her sister's skirt, prodding at the black lace overlay.

"Sunny! Please don't do that. You'll tear it." Violet gently pushed her hand away. Though a bit worn and threadbare, it was one of only two skirts she owned. "I need this to last for a while."

"Sorry." The little girl looked chagrined, but soon she resumed her usual talkative demeanor. "When I'm grown up, I want a skirt just like that," she said.

"You do?" Violet smiled, momentarily distracted from her misgivings about her brother. At least Sunny seemed to be feeling better. " I think you'll want something nicer. You can have a whole closet full of skirts."

"No," Sunny said. "I want one like that. And I want a ribbon too, just like...Violet," her tone suddenly went shrill. "Where did your ribbon go?"

"My ribbon?" Violet touched the back of her head. " I had it in my hair when we left the ferry." She reached into her right pocket then. Finding nothing, she checked her other pocket, and her voice caught in her throat. "I..I must have lost it."

A bitter emptiness sank into her along with the realization; it was the one item that she cared about. When the accident occurred, she had only thought of her siblings, and then, of their chance to escape from V.F.D. and the interminable threat of Count Olaf. In all the turmoil, somehow, she had left her ribbon behind.

Violet shut her eyes against a stab of grief. _I should've been more careful._ What would she do now? Could she invent without it? She'd never tried before. _I will not cry, I will not..._

Her brother turned to her with a look of compassion, but she did not see him.

She exhaled softly, hoping to appear calmer than she felt. _I am the big sister, after all._

And besides, Sunny had reminded her that she was a grown up. It wouldn't do for her to be in tears over something so trivial.

"It's alright," she said, more to herself than to her family. "I'll get another one someday." She smiled at Sunny again, as if to emphasize the words. But Klaus saw the lingering shadow behind her eyes, the pain that would not easily fade.

He wanted to comfort Violet, to lay his hand on her shoulder or pull her into a hug, letting her know that he shared her heartache. But he could only watch her stare vacantly out the window, lost in her own troubled thoughts.

Sullen and drowsy, Sunny leaned against her sister's side as the trolley rumbled along. She didn't feel like talking anymore.

 


	3. Trust

Disclaimer: Not mine. No profit.

Warnings: Hints of incestual feelings. 

* * *

 

Trust

"No soul is desolate as long as there is a human being for whom it can feel trust and reverence."- T.S. Eliot

* * *

 

Violet ignored the hot dog vendor's dubious stare as she made her purchase. Her clothes had dried considerably on the trolley ride, but she knew that she appeared bedraggled and unkempt, at best. _What does it matter? We'll be free of this place soon enough._

She scowled at the bills in her hand, recalling the questionable source of that money. Even though she was only buying food for her half-starved family, spending it made her feel dirty somehow, as if she were profiting from ill-gotten gains.

She was a jumble of mixed emotions, torn between relief and indignation. When they'd left the trolley, Sunny had looked up with wide eyes, and asked for something to eat. _What if I couldn't get food for her?_ _What would I have done?_

Angrily, she pushed the thought aside. She didn't know how Klaus had managed to get the money, but the answer couldn't be good. _I'll ask him later._

Balancing three hot dogs, she headed back to the bench where her brother and sister were waiting. The train station was far bigger and more crowded than she had expected, and she had to peer among the rows and rows of seats to find Sunny and Klaus.

"There you are," she said, sitting down with them. Though she disliked junk food, Violet had to admit that the hotdogs smelled appealing. _It just goes to show what hunger will do…_ She wasted no time in passing them out.

" I thought we'd lost you for a minute there," Klaus said, after gulping down a few bites.

"It was better that he didn't see all of us together," she said tersely, handing him the rest of the money. "I think you should hold onto it."

Her brother nodded silently. He could feel her unhappiness, doubt hovering like a dark cloud in the air between them. But now was not the time for a discussion.

"This is really good...I think it's the best food I've ever had," Sunny chimed in, unwittingly breaking the strained atmosphere. She beamed at them with a smear of mustard on her face, for all the world like a normal child, cheerful and lighthearted.

Her mood was infectious, and her brother and sister found themselves smiling slightly. It took so little to make her happy.

"You were hungry," Violet said, thinking she should check the inside of the suitcase; it was not waterproof, after all. She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant thought of mold growing on their blanket and clothing.

"Did you find out how much the tickets cost?" Klaus counted the money she'd thrust into his hand, wondering how much they had left.

"No, I didn't," she said, with her back to him. "We won't be buying tickets."

"What do you mean?"

"We're going to hitch a ride in one of the baggage cars. "

"Vi, are you sure about this?" He could remember reading stories about Rail Riders in the Great Depression. "It's very dangerous. People have died that way." _Or worse,_ he thought, hesitant to mention the grisly details in front of Sunny.

"We don't have much choice, Klaus." Violet lowered her voice. "We need to make that money last as long as possible. She stared at him pointedly. "It can't be much worse than what we've already done."

"Okay," he sighed, feeling guilty and exposed under her gaze. She distrusted him, and the knowledge was a heavy weight in his heart. _I'll agree to anything, if she'll stop looking at me like that._

"We should get on board just when the train starts moving, to avoid the security guards," he said.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Sunny asked, a bit too loudly. "We haven't decided where to go yet!"

The elder Baudelaires looked at her, and then at eachother. Their little sister was correct, of course.

 _Klaus and I never used to be so distracted,_ Violet thought agitatedly. _Leave it to Sunny to set us right. "_ What would we do without you?" She ruffled her sister's hair.

As luck would have it, at that moment an announcement blared over the loudspeakers.

"Attention passengers: due to circumstances beyond our control, all departures will be delayed by forty-eight hours. We appreciate your patience and apologize for any inconvenience."

"This doesn't make sense. " Klaus said incredulously, "There must be at least twenty trains scheduled to leave the depot. How can they _all_ be delayed?"

"Didn't you hear?" For the first time, the Baudelaires noticed the white-haired, bespectacled man sitting across from them. "There were a series of collisions," he said helpfully. "Five all at once, as I understand it."

They glanced uneasily at eachother, but the man went on chatting, like an old friend discussing the weather.

"It seems to be a problem of operator errors. Most of the tracks have been temporarily shut down."

" Operator errors caused five separate collisions at the same time?" Violet looked at him skeptically.

"That can't be," Klaus said, shaking his head. _Who is this guy? We shouldn't be talking to him, or to anyone._

He caught her eyes briefly. As if they shared one mind, they rose together. He grabbed Sunny's hand, and Violet picked up the suitcase.

"We don't know you," she said curtly. "So please leave us alone."

"Wait, don't go," the stranger said, sounding surprised, as though his feelings were hurt. "I know something else you might find helpful."

They disregarded him, ready to bolt, but his next words stopped them in their tracks.

"There is one train leaving today. The Sixty-Seven, going north."

"How do you know about all this?" Violet returned, her voice rife with suspicion.

"Why, I'm the engineer," he said amiably, showing them his blue-and-grey striped cap as proof.

"And you're telling us because...?"

"Forgive me," the man said. "But I couldn't help overhearing your little sister. If leaving the city is what you're after, and one place is as good as another, now's your chance."

"Why wasn't your route disrupted?" Klaus couldn't believe what he was hearing, and a twinge of warning prickled in his mind.

"Mine is a freight engine. We run on different routes than the passenger trains, you see. It's nothing fancy, I'm afraid, but there's room enough for three people. We push off in an hour."

"No thank you. We're not interested." Violet walked brusquely away, with Klaus and Sunny at her heels.

"I don't trust him," he spoke under his breath, once they were safely out of the man's hearing range.

"Neither do I, but we can't stay here."

"So what happens now?"

"I want to get on that train," she said. "But we'll do it our way, not his."

Three heads peeked around the dingy, brown side of an empty passenger caboose, watching the security guards inspect the cars of Engine Sixty-Seven.

"Won't they see us?" Sunny whispered to her brother.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "They'll only check the cars that are about to leave."

"We'll run alongside it," Violet said, a plan whirling like clockwork in her brain. She looked at Klaus." One of us will have to get on first, with the suitcase."

"I think it should be you," he told her. Those stories of people being maimed or killed were suddenly too real.

"I'm the faster runner. I'll have a better chance if the train picks up speed too quickly."

"Besides," she added. "You're stronger than I am. I'll hand Sunny to you, and you can pull me in, if need be."

At length, the guards finished making their rounds. Cars screeched on the tracks, lurching forward, beginning to roll. And the Baudelaires sprang into action.

Hurriedly, Klaus released the latches on the wooden door, sliding it open. He flung the suitcase inside, and jumped in after it.

"Come on," he took hold of Sunny as Violet lifted her. The train was gaining momentum, wheels shrieking in a rapid spin, and he looked again for his elder sister.

 _We're going too fast_... "Violet!" His voice was lost amid the din. In a few seconds, she would be too.

Gripping the side of the doorway, he leaned out as far as he could, striving to reach her.

With a final burst of energy, she lunged for him, felt his hand close around her wrist as she clutched his. And all at once, they were falling into the freight car together, sprawled in a tangle of arms and legs.

For a long moment, the two of them lay there, unmoving, dazed and breathless.

"Vi?" He tried to sit up. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she laughed, the wind blowing her hair about wildly. "We made it."

He had to smile at the sight of her, flushed and almost giddy with elation.

"Are you?"

"What?" He blinked.

"Are you all right, Klaus?"

He could only nod, suddenly, starkly aware of her body pinning him down. She was still holding onto him for dear life, her face mere inches from his own.

"Hey," Sunny's voice startled them both. "Will you please move so I can shut the door?"

Only after ensuring that Sunny was unharmed did Violet bother to survey their surroundings. The car interior was dark and dusty, filled with cardboard boxes, steel drums, and various parcels wrapped in burlap. Bars of sunlight shone through a few wide slats in the wood door, making it possible for them to see.

 _This will do,_ she decided, her thoughts returning to the water-damaged suitcase. Almost everything needed to dry out. Klaus and Sunny helped her to sort through their clothes, draping the articles over boxes, and wherever they could find room.

"It will all get dirty," Sunny touched the top of one container, her finger leaving a clean streak on the grimy surface.

"Dirt will wash off," Violet said. "What we need to worry about is mold."

"Uggh," came the reply. Suddenly dirt didn't seem so bad.

The old, navy blue, woolen blanket was hardly damp, Violet noted, as she stretched it over a pile of packages. It seemed black in the dim light.

"Wool is naturally water-resistant," Klaus had told her on the ferry, and apparently, his judgment was as sound as ever.

At the image of her brother on the ill-fated commuter boat, her mind reverted back to the cash he'd miraculously obtained from somewhere. And her heart sank twice over. _Klaus, what have you done, and why didn't you tell me?_

Surreptitiously, she observed him playing with Sunny, as they made a game of throwing a wet shirt at eachother. _It's one of his, at least,_ Violet caught herself smiling again.

 _My family_ , she thought with a flood of warmth. _What would I do without them?_ Her baby sister, always a bright spot of hope. And Klaus... _I wouldn't be here now, if it weren't for him.He's never failed me, never given me a reason to doubt..._ She could feel a lump forming in the back of her throat. _I do trust him, with my life... But he didn't tell me about the money... He doesn't trust me._

She tried to swallow her anguish, to be composed and rational, but the thought hurt her more with each passing second.

It was time to ask him.

 


	4. The Luxury of Principles

Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from these characters.

Warnings: A brother and sister who, perhaps, love eachother more than they should. 

 

The Luxury of Principles

The fact is that a man who wants to act virtuously in every way necessarily comes to grief among so many who are not virtuous.

-Niccolo Machiavelli

* * *

 

The approaching night brought a cold wind and an end to all activity, making them shiver in their coats and huddle together, gradually transforming the wooden slats into black stripes in the door frame.

With the light beginning to fade around them, the Baudelaires sat together in silence. And when Sunny drifted into a fitful sleep, Violet finally broached the question she'd been dying to ask for hours.

"Klaus, where did you get that money?"

He sighed, wishing he could hide. But a deeper part of him needed, desperately, to share with her what he'd done. _This is Violet,_ he reminded himself. _She's always been there... I caused this rift between us._ A fresh wave of guilt swamped him."I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Vi. I just... I..."

"Don't you trust me?"

She looked so sad, so defeated, and he just wanted to hold her. But he clenched his fists at his sides. _Who knows what she'll think of me after tonight._ "It's not about that. I...I was afraid. I thought...you'd be ashamed of me, and I can't..."

"What did you do?" Her voice was distraught.

"I took it from Mr. Murdock," he said, avoiding her eyes.

 _Mr. Murdock_ , o _f course._ She remembered the VFD agent who'd been so scrupulous about minding them, lest they should try to make an escape. _He drowned in the accident. I should probably feel some pity for him._ But her thoughts were with her brother now, not that disagreeable man who was past all help.

Deep sadness overshadowed her relief. "How could you?" She had to struggle to keep her voice down. "How could you steal?"

"I saw his wallet floating in the water. He was already dead. I figured he didn't need it anymore...and we did."

"You always say you don't believe the end justifies the means."

"I don't. But sometimes..." He searched for the right words. "Sometimes principles are a luxury."

"Do you know what you're saying? We can't use evil means to accomplish good!" She couldn't breathe, felt as if her lungs were about to burst. "If we do that, what's to stop us from becoming evil ourselves?"

"What about you?" he said. "It was your idea to sneak onboard here- that's like stealing."

"No, it's not. The driver was already planning to make this trip- we just tagged along. We're not hurting anybody."

"I didn't hurt him, Vi."

"You stole from him."

"If I hadn't, we'd be walking right now, still trying to get to the train station. You know we have to look after ourselves, or no one will." Everything he did was for them, for his sisters. Surely Violet could understand that.

"And you know that we can't let ourselves become like Olaf and his lot. Thieves and murderers who would do anything to get what they want."

He looked at Sunny, bundled up snugly in her coat and their one blanket, with her head on Violet's lap. "I'd do anything for her," he said. "Even become a thief or a murderer."

Then his dark eyes found Violet's. "I'd do it for you, too."

She was alarmed by the unwavering, dangerous intensity in his voice. He seemed almost feral in that moment- a wolf- fierce and devoted to his pack.

"Does that make me an evil person?"

The question swirled like a sandstorm in her head, gritty and disordered. Violet thought she would never be able to answer it properly. He had done something illegal, and horribly wrong, but she could not bring herself to see Klaus as evil.

How could she condemn her brother, whose stubborn loyalty and keen memory had seen them through more trials than she cared to recall? From beginning to end he was good and courageous and kind. It would have been easy for him to use his intelligence for selfish purposes, to exploit and manipulate people. Yet he never did, except when it was absolutely necessary. _For Sunny and I..._

She could remember the time in Curdled Cave, when Aunt Josephine refused to return with them, to prove that she was alive. Klaus had convinced her to come, playing on her irrational fear of realtors. _He used his abilities then, for us._

 _Is it the same with stealing? Did we really need the money that badly?_ One glance at Sunny told her they did.

Without that money, her little golden-haired girl would not be falling asleep now, warm and well-fed. It shattered her to think of Sunny going hungry, and from the softness in her brother's eyes, she knew that he felt the same way.

Klaus had acted out of desperation and love for his family. _And I am no different,_ she realized. For Sunny, she had once signed her life away to a despicable monster _. I would've let Olaf do terrible things to me and take my freedom. But would I be willing to harm someone else, for Sunny's sake? If I had to do something evil to save her, or Klaus...If I had to lie or steal or even...kill...would I do it?_

The idea was beyond distressing. How far would she go to protect her siblings? Could she fault Klaus for something she might have done, if given the chance?

He waited, staring forlornly at his hands. And her silence unnerved him. "Vi? Do you think I'm evil?"

"No," she said at last. "You're not evil, Klaus. Evil people only think about themselves, but you were thinking of us. You always think of us." She gave him a small, weary smile. " We did need the money. When Sunny said she was hungry, I don't know what I would've done if..." She shook her head. Some things were too awful to think about.

Not for the first time, he saw how thin she was, how pale and tired, and he slid his arm around her shoulder. If nothing else, they could keep eachother warm.

"I'm sorry for being angry with you," she finished softly, leaning closer against him.

"It's okay. I was angry at myself, too," he admitted.

"You were?"

"Yeah. I mean, I stole from a dead man. But what if I let you and Sunny suffer? What if I let her go hungry, when I could prevent it? Wouldn't that be worse?"

She looked at him pensively, her whirling thoughts drawing to a sharp point, like the thin funnel of a cyclone. Forced to decide between two evils, Klaus had chosen the lesser one. _He chose us...our well-being. But at what cost to himself?_

Violet felt a great rush of tenderness for her brother, the one person she could always turn to, could always trust. But guilt brewed inside of her as well, with a knot of anxiety that she couldn't ignore.

"It's my fault," she said. " I'm the one who brought us to this. I thought we could use the accident to disappear, but it all happened so fast. We weren't ready to live like this, on the run."

"You can't blame yourself, Vi. There was no way to plan ahead of time. None of us knew the ferry was going to capsize."

"I'm afraid I've only led us into more trouble."

"No...We took a risk in leaving, and I'm glad we did. Who knows if we'd ever have another chance to get away from those VFD 'escorts'?" The emphasis he placed on the last word left little doubt as to its meaning.

"VFD wanted to use us as bait," he continued. "To set a trap for Olaf."

"That's all we were to them- worms on a hook." She smiled ruefully. " I wonder if they would've sacrificed us to catch their fish."

"You pulled us off the hook, Vi. We were hardly safe with them."

"But we left with nothing." Sad green eyes looked into his, and for a moment he couldn't think of anything at all.

"Klaus?"

He swallowed hard when she said his name, feeling dizzy and strange and utterly at a loss for words.

"Yeah?" His voice was almost inaudible.

"What are we going to do?"

"Well...we still have eachother," he offered gently. "Now that Olaf thinks we're dead, maybe we can finally stop running."

"And if we have to compromise our principles to survive, or to stay together, what then? Will we turn into people like our enemies?"

Klaus sighed, and he had to look away from the sorrow and resignation in her eyes. "You think we'll be corrupted."

"We will lose our innocence, or whatever's left of it," she said darkly.

His forehead creased in a deep frown. More than anything, he didn't want to believe her. But even if she were right, what could they do about it? Survival had to be their first priority.

He thought of all the books he'd read on natural history and natural selection, and how the creatures that survived were the ones with variety in their diets and abilities; the ones that could adjust to changes in their environment. To do otherwise was to invite death, cold and certain.

 _We have to adapt,_ he thought grimly. _Whatever happens, we have to adapt._

"Maybe we can't be innocent anymore, Vi." He spoke quietly, hoping he didn't sound as small as he felt. "I guess that's the price we have to pay, to take care of eachother."

She laid her head on his shoulder then, her fingers smoothing over Sunny's curls. And wordlessly, she reached for his hand. _This is real,_ she seemed to say. _This and nothing else._

There was a crisp energy the cool, smoky air- a restive stillness, as if the earth were holding its breath in anticipation. It reminded him of the night Sunny was born, though he didn't know why.

He heard Violet's voice again, hushed and wistful in the darkness. "I don't like it, Klaus. I don't like any of it."

"I know," he said. And he rested his head against hers. "I don't like it either."

 


	5. Taking the Fall

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.

Warnings: pre-incest, if you will.

* * *

 

Taking the Fall

Just let me hold you while you're falling apart,

Just let me hold you and we'll both fall down

\- Rob Thomas; Ever the Same.

* * *

 

He was back in the crowded rail station, surrounded by a dull roar of sounds and strangers, with the engineer who'd tried to give them a ride. Things were just as before, but now it seemed to Klaus that they were moving in slow motion. "I couldn't help overhearing your little sister," the man said. "…. little sister… little sister," the voice echoed, and cold fear ran up his spine. _He knows who we are…he knows…_

The image faded, and they were no longer in the station, but on the train, the number 67 freight engine… _A freight train… It's a freight train…_ The thought pestered him like a buzzing mosquito, would not leave him alone… Something was wrong, unmistakably wrong… And then it dawned on him, an old memory from a dusty volume in his parents' library. _There are rail yards for freight trains… What was he doing at a passenger station?_

An unfamiliar person who seemed to know them, a freight engineer in a place he never should have been. Klaus didn't believe in coincidences, couldn't reconcile the illogic of it all. Unless…. _He was there because of us. The wrecks that shut down the other routes… his sudden appearance… was it all a trick, some kind of ploy to get us on this train?_

He froze, seeing Sunny and Violet with the driver, there on either side of him, as if paralyzed. He wanted to run, to go to them, but his feet seemed rooted in the floor. And then, as he watched in horror, the engineer's unremarkable, pallid expression transformed…into the malignant, grinning face of Count Olaf. _No!_

"Klaus!" From somewhere in the distance, Violet was calling his name. " Klaus, wake up."

" Wake up," she jostled him.

"What?" His eyes shot open, terrified and disoriented. "Vi? Are you okay? Is Sunny okay?"

Her palm was cool against his face, her voice like still water. " We're fine, Klaus. You had a nightmare. Are you feeling alright?"

"I… I guess so." His mind raced, too fast for him to keep up. " He knew…"

"What are you talking about?" Concern marred her features.

" He knew us, Vi- the engineer. If that's even his real job… And this is a freight train. It doesn't make any sense."

" You're not making any sense."

" I remembered… While I was asleep… " His heart sank, heavy with the weight of grave realization. "I didn't think about it before, but I should've known…. Freight trains don't take on passengers, and they don't stop at passenger stations. I think he was there because of us."

"Why?" She fought to contain her own feelings of distress.

" He called Sunny our little sister. "

"He could've guessed that. What else would she be?"

" Our daughter," he said. " People who don't know better might think- "

"Klaus!" She blushed furiously, averting her eyes. _Our daughter…_

" What I meant is, the engineer knew that Sunny is our sister. He was looking for us."

"Why did he let us go, then?"

"Maybe he figured we'd get on his train anyhow. Maybe that's what he wanted."

" And maybe you're wrong, Klaus. He doesn't even know we came onboard."

"Are you sure about that? "

" I'm not sure of anything anymore," her tone was jaded. _It's all so unlikely. Everyone believes we are dead … Or do they?_ She bit her lower lip, in the way that told him she was nervous. _I've made so many mistakes._

" You did your best for us, Vi. Without you, we wouldn't have made it this far." He squeezed her hand, still enclosed in his- a gesture of solidarity. "We're bound to go wrong sometimes. It can't be helped."

She lifted her head. "Klaus, if you're sure… If you're really sure, then we have to go now."

"I am," he said, with something akin to remorse.

"Ummm…" Sunny woke then, bleary-eyed and groggy, and she sat up. "Whas going on?"

"It's time for us to get moving," Violet rose, a bit unsteady on her feet. "You two come and help me repack the suitcase."

* * *

 

Through the slats, she could see the gray morning, slivers of sunlight emerging in a thin, gold crescent on the horizon. But Violet only had eyes for her brother and sister, the both of them anxious and alert, as she was herself.

She placed her hands against the door, felt the relentless beat of the wind on the grainy wood frame, a raging monster threatening to tear it apart. _And us, too_. She held her breath. _It's now or never._

In one, quick motion, she slid the door aside, wind blasting over her in full force. Gathering Sunny into her arms, she wished she could offer something more than flesh and blood to protect her baby sister. "Hold on tight to me."

She felt Klaus watching her, knew that her thoughts were an open book to him.

And then they were all three embracing, hugging each other for courage, as cold air whipped around them, the walls of the freight car rattling like thunderclaps.

No one spoke- no words were needed. Klaus and Violet stood at the entrance, side by side. Fields of tall grass lay in front of them, rushing by in a blur.

He threw their suitcase out first, and they watched as it hit the ground, rolling over and over.

The bag broke open, its contents spilling, and panic seized him. If that had been one of his sisters….

"Violet..."

She clasped Sunny to her, alight with wild fear and determination. The noise was deafening… "We can make it," she shouted. "You know we can make it."

He felt his spirit rise then, the blood pounding in his head, all hesitation crushed beneath a wave of adrenaline.

The elder Baudelaires looked at one another, at the vast landscape, flying like time before their eyes. And as one, they jumped.

It was nearly midday, the sun glaring down like an incessant, shining eye, when they finally finished gathering their clothes. Violet rubbed gingerly at a large bruise on her arm as she examined the suitcase yet again. _Still in one piece_ , she mused, feeling a peculiar sort of kinship with the object. It was covered with scratches, battered and water-stained, but functional. _Not broken after all…_

It brought to mind a story Klaus had mentioned, something about a man who learned that one stick could be snapped in half with ease, but two or three together… "We are never broken," he had said. "When we stand with others."

He came toward her now, with Sunny riding on his back. _He's torn his shirt_ _and one pant leg. Sunny was spared the brunt of it- thank goodness for that, anyway._

Absently, she fingered a few strands of her hair _. Must be a rat's nest of tangles. What a bunch of vagabonds we are…_ And she smiled at them, because it didn't matter in the least. _We are never broken._

"Vi, are you ready?"

"In a minute," she told him, closing the latches once more.

They trudged along for miles, following the path of the train tracks. Sunny asked her brother about the cloud formations, accustomed to his prodigious answers. "Those are Cirrus clouds," he said. " They come ahead of other, larger clouds."

"So that means more clouds are coming soon, right?"

"Right, maybe in a few days."

The fields were a medley of plant life, grasses and wildflowers, and he pointed out the different varieties as they passed. She listened, wanting to learn the names _. I hope I can remember like he does…_

But then, the little girl saw something she could identify. " Look! Apple trees!"

"It's an orchard," Klaus observed.

"Let me off, let me off," she slapped at his shoulder, eager to be on her own two feet.

"Ow- okay, okay," he allowed her to leap down.

"Thank you," she smirked, dimples showing, and she ran into the trees.

"Sunny, be careful!" Violet called, setting the suitcase on the ground. Her brother came up next to her.

" Impetuous, isn't she?" A grin played at the corners of his mouth.

She gave him a stern look, but her eyes glinted with amusement. " I think she gets it from you."

Before long, Sunny was up in the nearest tree, and with the blanket stretched between them like a hammock, her brother and sister tried to catch the fruits she tossed down.

"You know," she said. "There are so many things I could make with these… candy apples, apple pie, apple cider, apple fritters…."

"Right now, I'll settle for plain, old apples," Klaus returned amiably.

She wasn't paying attention. "If I only had the recipes…"

"And a kitchen," Violet smiled. "That's enough, Sunny, or we won't be able to carry them all. Can you climb down? "

They heard rustling and scuffling in the branches. "Um... well… No," she sounded surprised. " I think I'm stuck."

"I'll get her," he said, giving Violet his end of the blanket so that the apples were tucked inside.

 “Sunny, don't move. I'm coming."

Without much trouble, he scaled the tree. And he found his little sister, snagged among the leaves. " Hang on, I've got you," he said as he pulled her free. The limb creaked ominously under them. "It might not hold both of us. Let's go."

With one arm, he lowered her through the scraggly branches, and she made it the rest of the way, to Violet.

"Are you okay?" Her sister swept her up, glad that she was safe.

"Yeah," she said, unflustered. " I'm starving. Can we eat now?"

"We can." Violet put her down. "Klaus, what are you doing?"

" I'm going to-" His voice was abruptly cut off as a branch cracked under his weight.

"Klaus!" He could hear Violet and Sunny screaming for him. _Just like in my dream…._

And then he was flat on his back, broken boughs on top of him, and a haze of malformed shapes swirling in his head.

They were with him in an instant, hauling the branches away. "Can you move?" Violet's green eyes were the first things he saw clearly.

" Yeah, I think so." But a stab of pain struck him when he moved his right leg. "Violet… I…"

"Wait," she said. " I need to see how bad it is."

* * *

 

_A sprained ankle_ , he thought, scarcely able to suppress his anger _. How could I be so stupid?_ Their progress had been hindered immeasurably. _Now, Violet has to carry the suitcase and help me. And Sunny has to walk…._ "I'm not a baby anymore," she'd informed him. " I can do it." But he hated this- being useless.

His sisters didn't hold him responsible and they didn't complain. _Even though we had to stop frequently… and we could've gone farther..._ Their kindness only added to his feelings of guilt.

He bowed his head. _For everything a reason…_ _I guess it could be worse- I could've broken my leg as well as that branch. All I wanted was to find a road…_

Instead, he'd noticed a stream and a long stretch of forest trees some distance beyond the orchard. _Just before I fell… We have water for a little while… it's safe to drink from a fast-moving stream… It could be worse._

The copse was thick with vegetation, with brown and yellow leaves- a foreshadowing of winter… _Those clouds earlier, the cold… We may not have much time._

There were no sounds but the chirping crickets, the low trickling of water, and Sunny's steady breathing as she slept. But he heard something else… _Where is she?_

"Ugh," Violet sighed in frustration as she tried to comb out the snarls in her hair. _It's no use. This will take forever._

She felt Klaus' hand on her shoulder then. "Vi, let me do it."

"You should be resting. Your ankle-"

" I don't need my legs for this." He was already sitting behind her. " Let me help."

"Well, alright," she consented, with a hint of embarrassment. And she gave the comb to him. _If I hadn't lost my ribbon…_ She missed it now more than ever.

Carefully, her brother untangled the knots one by one, his hands gentle in her hair. It made her feel vulnerable, as if she were exposed somehow, but she didn't want him to stop. _No one has done this since I was a little girl… not since… Mom…_ She ran a hand over her eyes briefly, brushing at tears. _What's the matter with me?_

"Thank you," she said, so softly he wondered if he'd imagined it.

Her voice sent a pang through him, sharper than his injury, and he didn't understand…

Coppery locks fell in long waves past her shoulders, iridescent in the waning moonlight, almost ethereal…

_She is beautiful…_ His sister… so clever and brave and endlessly loyal. " I don't know how to do things halfway," she'd once told him, and it was true. When she loved, she did it wholeheartedly, without reservation. _One day, she'll want to have a family of her own… to find… someone…_

And inevitably, he began to visualize what it might be like, to be the man she would choose. _Will he see how rare and incredible she is? Will he love her? If he doesn't I'll…_ He shut his eyes, a feeling like gravel in the pit of his stomach.

There she was again, in a white wedding dress- but who waited for her at the end of the aisle? _No…_ he gritted his teeth. _Not Olaf… I won't let it be him…_

His leg throbbed painfully, a constant reminder that he could hardly walk, that he was… a liability. _Violet…_ In defiance of all common sense, she would stay with him. _She'd sacrifice herself…but if anything happened to her, because of me…_

"Vi," he spoke tentatively. "Tomorrow, maybe you and Sunny should go on and leave me here. I can catch up when-"

She twisted around. "Don't even think it."

"If someone is after us, I'll only slow you down."

"Klaus, listen to me," She framed his face in her hands, pushing back the dark hair that curled around his ears. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

He opened his mouth, as if to reply… but he couldn't speak, couldn't even blink away the tears that choked him suddenly.

"Come here," she drew her brother close, wanting to make him feel protected, to shelter him.

She was mother and sister, soft skin and tender strength, and he hid his face in her neck. Like a child, she rocked him gently, cradling his head, and he was no longer conscious of pain or loss or regret. There was only her.

_So beautiful…_

Slowly, disbelievingly, he became aware of it- a burning sensation in his scalp, streaming down his shoulder blades, where her hands had touched him. He pulled back, stunned _. It can't be…Violet…_

Heady emotions slammed into him, wreaking havoc with his sanity… She was like a vision, her eyes full of wisdom and deep mysteries. And love for him…

_She is my sister_. He tried to think of Fiona and Isadora, of any other girl he'd admired. But oddly enough, he couldn't seem to remember... _Maybe I never met them at all…_

Violet's hands were on his as she gently took the comb from him, slender and elegant, and he wanted to… _She is my sister… I can't…_

He looked aside, and at once, felt the harsh return of reality- the bitter cold and the raw soreness in his leg.

" I… I'll take the first watch," he said, unwilling to burden her further.

"Not tonight. I'll do it," she insisted. " You need to rest, Klaus." A flush had spread over her cheeks. _It must be the cold._ But she felt warm - curiously, achingly warm.

He felt a great heaviness, as though his bones were made of lead. "You'll wake me, won't you? In a while, I mean."

"I will." She kissed his forehead. " Get some sleep."

He made a place near Sunny, folding his arms under his head, the dense greenery a fragile barrier between his family and whoever might be trailing them. He couldn't see Violet anymore, but he knew that she was there- he knew it all too well.

Lying on his side, Klaus did his best to ignore his sprained ankle, the tingling in his skin where she'd kissed him, the memory of her body, warm against his…

_I can't do this…can't think about her this way…._ He flung an arm across his face to block out the moonlight, the picture of her.

But she was there, behind his eyelids, haunting and lovely as ever. _She is my sister…my sister…._

He would have no sleep this night, and no peace.

 


	6. Lost and Found

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I do not profit from this work.

Warnings: pre-incest, language, implied adult situations.

* * *

 

Lost and Found

There's nothing we can do about the things we have to do without. 

\- Goo Goo Dolls; Let Love In.

* * *

 

True to her word, Violet went to find her brother in the early hours of the morning. She was surprised to see him already awake and staring into space, as if he were in a trance.

"Klaus?" She touched him and he flinched. The burning sensation hadn't abated; in the mere span of a few hours, it had only grown more powerful. His heartbeat quickened, the pounding louder than a steel drum. _What's wrong with me? If she finds out..._

"Klaus, haven't you slept at all?" Her hand was light on his arm.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, and he shifted away. _She's too close..._ He was afraid of what he might do, didn't trust himself to be near her anymore. "I... I just needed to think. I'll take it from here."

She watched his back as he left to take his turn as lookout, a thin veil of worry shrouding her like mist. He'd changed so much, her brother. _I never thought about it before..._ When he held onto her, she'd felt the tense, wiry muscles in his arms and in his shoulders. _How strong he is... taller than me now... a man._ Except for his mop of brown hair- the last trace of his boyhood. And his eyes...

Feeling restless, she noticed that the cold night air had turned balmy, as if it were springtime and not the last days of fall. A mild breeze wafted over her, rich with the scent of orange blossoms. _What's going on?_ The little thicket, awash in moonlight, seemed almost otherworldly.

She didn't know that she had fallen asleep until she saw the woman. Long auburn hair, the same color as hers, done up properly in a bun, and the dress, full-skirted and emerald green. It had always been her mother's favorite.

"Mother?" Violet took a tentative step forward, and then another. "What are you doing here?"

The woman welcomed her with a loving smile, and open arms. " My daughter. "

Violet embraced her in a heartbeat; overcome with a feeling she thought she'd lost forever- the unending love of her mother.

"I'm so scared, Mother. Sometimes I feel so alone."

" Oh Violet," her mother's smile was like sunlight breaking through clouds. "You already have everything you need. Love is all around you, if you would but see it."

She held her daughter at arms length. "You are not alone. Remember, darling, my blessing goes with you wherever you are." And with that, she was gone like the night.

Stifling a sob, Violet tried to catch her breath. And suddenly, she realized that Sunny was lying next to her, watchful and wide awake. _Was it all a dream?_ Her dark thoughts dissolved as she tried to smile at her little sister. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," came the soft reply. "Violet, do you know what?"

"What?" her smile warmed.

" I'm glad we're together."

" Oh, Sunny," Violet scooped her into a hug. " I love you. You know that, right?" _Thank you, Mother. I'll always make sure that she knows your love, through me._

"Right," Sunny grinned. "I love you too."

Their brother was still at his post a few feet away, a stoic sentry on guard. She could see him, leaning against an ash tree, his form like a shadow in the blue, pre-dawn glow.

"Klaus?"

He started when she spoke, glanced over his shoulder apprehensively, as if he were afraid of them. _No, not afraid of us,_ she realized _. Afraid me. Is it because he cried? Boys aren't supposed to, but whoever made that rule didn't have the sense they were born with. He ought to know by now; I won't think less of him for that..._ "How's your ankle?"

"I'll manage," he sounded hoarse. "We have to find the road, Vi. It'll be snowing before long."

"We'll find it," the leaves crunched under her boots as she walked up, hand in hand with Sunny, and it took all his effort to deny the persistent tugging in his heart.

He wanted to smooth back her hair, to kiss her eyes and her mouth and- _NoNoNo! She is my sister._ It was agony to look at her, and he could only stare plaintively at the ground.

This was wrong- very, very wrong; he'd spent the whole night trying to convince himself of that fact. But, like a dam breached by a tidal wave, the feelings had surfaced and he couldn't stop them, could only try to stay afloat as he was swept along. He felt a sudden urge to run, knew that he wouldn't get far.

_Not without her..._

He had nothing if he didn't have his sisters. How could he ever imagine leaving Violet and Sunny? _Even with two good legs, I couldn't do it. But what about Violet... What if I can't control this and I- No!_ He forced the idea out of his head. _I have to protect her, even if it's from myself. I have to..._

His trail of thought was disrupted as Sunny hugged him. "Hey," he said, and he hugged her back. This precious little girl... He knew that he was a hero in her eyes. _I just hope I never disappoint her._ The mere thought of it frightened him beyond words. _If I have to leave... Her spirit will be crushed, because of me. And Violet...I don't want to hurt them... I can't stay and I can't go._

He released his little sister, and against his will, his eyes were drawn to where Violet stood, watching the sun rise over the fields.

"Look," she said, as Sunny's little hand clasped hers. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

But he only saw her.

At seventeen, she was no stranger to shattered dreams, to betrayal and deceit and cruelty. Yet here, in the first light of morning, with the two people she loved most in the world, Violet couldn't help but believe in a new beginning. It was so close, she could almost hear it- the promise that something better waited for them, just ahead.

"We'll always be together, won't we?" Sunny gazed up at her expectantly.

"Of course," Violet reassured her. "We won't let anything tear us apart."

Klaus felt a lump forming in his throat. The words rang hollow, a mirage in his ears. _What would she say if she knew..._

They traveled nearly half a day before they found a small, two-lane highway, with so many potholes that they wondered if it had been abandoned. There was no traffic, and no one else around.

Klaus' ankle had improved steadily, but Violet still thought that he was pushing himself too hard, and she frequently insisted that they stop to rest. "We all need it," she told him. " This road must lead somewhere- a town, most likely."

"Yeah," he said. "But what if it's a ghost town?"

"Will there really be ghosts?" Sunny asked, fascinated. "I want to see one."

He hated stopping. While they were on the move, he could focus on the pain in his leg, on putting one foot in front of the other. But as soon as he had a chance to think, unacceptable urges invaded his mind like a virus. And he lacked the willpower to keep them at bay.

The Baudelaires walked for miles, until they were all as exhausted as they'd ever been. Klaus dug one of their few remaining apples out of the suitcase, and he handed it to Sunny. Her head drooped, as if she were about to nod off.

"C'mere," he picked her up, her sleepy form limp like a rag doll. " I'll carry you for awhile."

She murmured something that he couldn't make out, but he guessed it was a protest.

"It's okay," he said, and his voice was the last thing she heard before she fell asleep on his shoulder.

He turned, to find Violet staring at him with an unfathomable expression. She recovered almost instantly, and went to take the apple from him. "I'll put it away," she said quietly. A silent understanding passed between them in that moment. _We can't afford to waste anything._

She was his partner again, his friend. And if he'd doubted it before, he knew better now. _I love her... in every way there is, I love her..._

He looked at her then, with his heart in his eyes. She felt weak, as if there were no strength in her body at all. But in the corner of her vision, something glittered, a hint of sunlight on metal. She glanced to the side, and there it was: a dingy white and green sign, half-concealed by a sparse patch of bushes.

"Klaus, do you see that?" She shielded her eyes with one hand. " I think we've arrived."

He strode over to investigate while she gathered their things. " Welcome to Lummoxville," he read aloud. " Population: 1,343. Do you think they'd agree to add a few more?"

" Let's have a look around," she said. " Before we decide to be added."

At first glance, the town seemed little more than a cluster of lumber and brick structures. The one nearest them was drab and grey, with paint peeling from its old, wood siding. Raucous laughter filtered out through the open door, punctured with the odors of alcohol and cigarettes.

Klaus looked at her doubtfully. "Vi, are you sure about this?"

"We need work, Klaus, and a place to spend the night. There may be a motel."

"You want to ask _them_?" He nodded toward the building. " What makes you think they'll help us?"

"We have to try," she said. " At least they might give us directions."

But she changed her mind when a couple of drunken men staggered out, and saw her. Their catcalls and whistles brought other men to the doorway. "Hey there, sweetheart," sneered one with a gold front tooth. "Whas your name?" His speech was slurred.

"It's not sweetheart," she returned coolly, and her brother tried to suppress a grin. Violet lifted her chin, to show them she was unafraid, would not be intimidated. And she had to admit, it was so much easier to be strong with Klaus by her side.

He stood there, every muscle taught, his fists clenched as if he were ready to fight them all. She didn't want to see that. "Klaus, let's get out of here," she slid her hand into his, to calm him, but he pulled away.

He couldn't take this, his brave, beautiful sister, so near... the knowledge of what those men wanted to do to her. _I'll kill them…_ And what he wanted... A thousand different feelings raged inside his head, all of them crushed beneath one certainty: he would protect Violet and Sunny _. No matter what..._

"We're going, now." She grabbed the suitcase and took his arm, as if they were out for an evening stroll. "Just walk," she said. "They're all slobbering drunk. If they try to come after us, it won't be hard to lose them."

And she was correct. Although a few people stared in mild surprise, no one else harassed them as they made their way down the street.

"I guess they don't get many visitors," he remarked to Violet.

"Not many like us, anyway," she smiled wryly. " We must seem very young to them, Klaus. Too young to be on our own."

"Well, we are, aren't we?"

" No, we're not," she told him. " Perhaps they're thinking of the way things should be. But we don't have any should, we only have what is."

"We've come this far," she continued. " If we're too young, what does it matter? We're different from most people, Klaus."

"Maybe not," he said. "Maybe we've just been tested more." She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. " But they could be us," he snapped his fingers. " Just like that, they could be us." And he sighed. "They'll never really understand us, will they?

"I don't think so. That's why we'll have to understand them."

He looked at her sharply. His elder sister, so full of empathy for her family, for everyone… How well did she understand him? _Does she know?_ Sometimes, he was sure that she could hear his thoughts. He was no good at keeping secrets from her. But then again, he'd never really tried.

Sunny was starting to wake up. " Where are we?" She wanted to know, and Klaus set her on her feet, telling her they'd made it to a town.

"Stay with us, okay?" Violet gripped the little girl's hand, and he realized the gang of drunk men had frightened her more than she let on.

His heart constricted painfully. _I'll never let anyone hurt her._

Soon, they came to a part of town with well-maintained storefronts and sidewalks swept clean of debris. There were businesses here, an auto repair shop, and even a little park with maple wood benches, where they stopped to rest.

Sunny sneezed, and Violet studied her with concern. "You're not feeling sick, are you?"

"No, I'm not," she said. But she sneezed again.

When they asked him about jobs in town, the mechanic laughed, and directed them to the Hardware and Goods store. It was there that they met Mr. Engles, the owner, a grandfatherly figure who reminded Sunny of Uncle Monty.

In his pinstriped apron, he seemed like a relic from another time. And he gave them a friendly welcome. "We don't see new faces around here too often."

Since he didn't ask questions about them or offer them anything, Violet warmed to him, and lowered her guard a bit. He only wanted to know how they liked the town.

Klaus bristled when she mentioned their encounter with the drunkards, thinking she shouldn't say too much. But the shopkeeper only shook his head in disgust.

"Our more derelict citizens," he said. "Always in some sort of trouble. They can be a problem, but most people are decent in these parts. I hope you won't think too badly of us because of a few rotten apples."

"Oh no," Violet smiled politely. "In fact, we were hoping to find work here."

"Well, I wish I could help you," he said with regret. " But that's part of the problem. Plenty of those folks at the bar would be working, if we had jobs for them. Lots of places closing up and moving on. We used to have an unemployment office, but that's gone as well. Hard times all around, if you see what I mean."

She nodded, masking her disappointment. "Are there other towns nearby?"

" I'm afraid not. There are some large farm spreads a few miles out, but nothing else for about three hundred miles or so."

"We need a place to stay," Klaus added. " Is there a motel around here?"

"One," the shopkeeper said thoughtfully. " Two blocks down, turn left, then go three blocks over. But I warn you, it's not exactly a first-rate establishment, if you catch my meaning."

" I see," Violet smiled again. " Thank you, you've been very kind."

"You kids be careful, now," he called after them as they went through the door.

The motel was not a first-rate establishment, to say the least. The man behind the counter had clearly neglected the finer points of personal hygiene for quite some time. From the stench that hit her nose, Violet figured he hadn't bathed in weeks; he made her think of the last city they'd lived in, and the sewer rats she'd seen scurrying in the drainage tunnels.

She had to force herself to approach him. _We're running out of options. Why am I being so timid? I'll just pay for the room and be done with him._

He smiled at her, but it only made him seem more like a rodent.

"We need a room." She tried to forget her trepidation, to be calm and direct.

"You're a pretty little thing," his eyes raked over her body suggestively. "We could make a deal."

A wave of revulsion swamped her, and she took a step back. "No, that won't be necessary."

"Aw, come on, darlin'. One time, and I won't charge you nothin' to stay here."

"We need a room," she repeated impassively. "We'll pay your standard rate."

"Whatsa matter? You too good or somethin'? "

She felt Klaus beside her then, and she had never been more thankful for his presence. He glared at the man, but when he spoke, his voice was controlled. "She said 'No.' Do you want our business or not?"

"Hey, looks like you could use a break, s'all."

_How generous. You're a real prince_ , she thought. Her brother was as angry as he'd ever been, and she hoped there wouldn't be a scene. _The last thing we need is to draw more attention to ourselves._

The man paused, apparently sizing them up. "150 for a week," he finally drawled out.

"But we just want a room for one night," she objected, knowing their dwindling funds would not stretch that far.

"We only rent by tha week." He grinned snidely. The lie could not have been more obvious if it were written on his face.

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "I don't believe you."

"Now, that don't change a thing." He seemed to enjoy her discomfiture, and Violet didn't have to guess at the reason. The man dangled a room key in front of them. "Just one time," he said lecherously.

"Let's go. We're not staying here." Before she could respond, Klaus had maneuvered her out the door.

The severity of their plight finally dawned on her as they headed into the cold afternoon once more. There was an icy bite to the wind, and she led her family into the shelter of a nearby building. _I think it's going to freeze tonight._

Klaus leaned exhaustedly against the wall, and with Sunny, she came to stand alongside him.

Her brother still walked with a limp, though he was trying valiantly to hide it. Sunny sneezed again, shivering, and Violet held her closer; she seemed sleepy, almost lethargic.

_He's in more pain than he'll admit,_ _and she's catching a cold. We really need that room..._ The prospect made her cringe, even as she considered it."Klaus," she looked him straight in the eye. "Maybe I should do it."

"No!" He was adamant. "You know what he wants, Vi. How can you even think of doing that?"

"I'll do it for Sunny." _And I'll do it for you..._

The youngest Baudelaire seemed to perk up at hearing her name. "Don't go," she said, tugging at Violet's sleeve. She hadn't understood most of the conversation in the motel, but she knew enough: the foul-smelling man wanted to do something awful to her sister.

"Violet, he'll hurt you. Don't go."

"It doesn't matter what happens to me." She bent down to kiss Sunny's forehead. " I can't have you spend another night outside." But now she was shaking as much as her little sister- repulsed by the knowledge of what she had to do. For a moment, she closed her eyes, as if bracing herself for the worst. "I'll make a deal with him."

She was prepared to go back into the rundown motel, but Klaus grabbed her arm.

"I won't let you." His stomach twisted at the thought of that rough, vile man...with Violet...

"You said yourself, we can't be innocent anymore.I don't need your permission, Klaus." Her tone was harsher than she’d intended. She didn't want to talk about this, not now, not in front of Sunny. Their little sister was far too perceptive for her own good.

"Klaus," she said, more gently. "Let go of my arm."

"No." The look on his face made her want to cry. "You're not going to do this."

"There's nowhere else to go," she felt as if she might collapse. "We've been all over town- this is the only motel."

"Then we won't stay in a motel." His hands gripped her shoulders, his eyes imploring. "We'll find another way."

"Look at Sunny," she shook her head. "Look at you! We can't go on like this."

He'd seen her like this once before, so beaten down and… disheartened. He didn't want to think on that day- the day of the marvelous marriage- but it was branded into him, like a scar inside his brain. _No, you're not gonna go through with this…. I have to…._

He had almost lost her then. _And I'll be damned if I let her go now._

 


	7. Convergence

Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from the ASOUE characters. All other charactersbelong to me.

Warning: Incest.

* * *

 

Convergence

We're one, but we're not the same. Well we hurt eachother, then we do it again.

~" One"

 

"How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said."

~Victor Hugo

* * *

 

 

She was giving in, wilting in front of him, and he couldn't… he couldn't just stand by and let her fall.

"Vi, there's got to be another way. We'll break into someone's basement, or a storage closet." He threw out ideas randomly, like darts at a target. One would hit the mark- it had to. _There's always something…_

He was no inventor; that was her role. But her silhouette lay behind his every move, in each thought and word and action, so much a part of him that he almost couldn't tell the difference anymore. "You can still pick locks, can't you? Violet?"

She refused to look at him. " Vi?" He held her arms, all but pinning her to the wall. " I know you can. Please…"

" I.. I don't know." Violet tried to imagine what she might use, but she felt empty, as if every ounce of her ingenuity had vanished along with her ribbon. She was no longer that girl, the one with all the confidence.

And she was so tired of being strong. "It depends on the lock… I don't know… I don't…" She closed her eyes so she wouldn't see his face. This would be awful enough without the knowledge that she was hurting him severely. " I'm done, Klaus. I don't have anything else to give."

" Vi…" he was pleading, willing her to believe in herself again, because he did. " You're a brilliant inventor," he told her. " It's who you are. Nothing can take that away. You don't need your ribbon- you don't need anything else."

Instinctively, he crushed her to him, though the slightest touch from her lit a bonfire under his skin. Pain like he'd never known, scorching and brutal. But he didn't hesitate, not even when she clung to him just as tightly. He couldn't let her go.

"It was always you," he murmured into her hair. "We're still alive because of you."

There was a terrible love in him in that moment, a ferocity that she'd only glimpsed in traces. She could feel it, passing through her like heat, and it shook her to her core. He would fight and bleed and suffer willingly, but he would not give her up...

"Alright," her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "I'll try… I'll try, Klaus."

The old, dilapidated motel seemed to leer at her, its black-curtained windows like so many glaring eyes, fiendish and sinister.

She felt her brother release the breath he'd been holding, his taught, lean muscles drawn in around her like armor. And for the first time in so long, she felt safe. _If I could just stay here…_

"It's probably infested with cockroaches, anyhow," she said, almost reluctant to separate from him.

" Well, at least one that we know of."

She had to smirk at that, if only a little. "Once we settle on a place, I'll see what I can do with the lock."

And then they were both talking at the same time.

"A house won't work. We need to be sure no one will come in during the night. I think we should look at-"

"It has to have a storeroom or cellar we can access from the outside. What about-"

" The Hardware and Goods Store," they said in unison.

Affection graced her features, like embers flaring into life. She was Violet again, _his_ Violet, and it seemed she had never been lost or listless at all.

"How do you know me so well, Klaus? "

Levity turned to terror, stark and explicit, as his mind went numb. _Does she know?_ But her eyes told him she was searching for something- the solution to a riddle, the missing piece… _What I wouldn't give, to be able to tell her…_

" It's easy," he managed a grin. " I- "

He was interrupted by another sneeze from Sunny, who'd been watching them silently.

The elder Baudelaires practically flew apart, remembering their sister- both of them red in the face, as if they'd done something they shouldn't have. And Sunny wondered what it was.

" Mr. Engels was nice to us," she spoke up, to remind them that she was a good listener. And that she was there. "I don't' want to make a mess in his store."

"I- I'll be careful," Violet promised, after she'd found her voice. She glanced at her brother then, almost shyly. " I just hope we can pay him back one day."

" We will, I know we will," Sunny brightened. She clapped her hands, and then she sneezed again.

* * *

 

They hadn't even set foot inside the store when Mr. Engels greeted them once more. "You folks still fixing to stay around?

"For a little while," Violet evaded the question. She tried to sound nonchalant, as if they'd merely come by for a chat. "We were hoping you could tell us more about this area."

Mr. Engels smiled at Sunny, who diverted her attention away from the cereal aisle to peer up at him, sweet as a little cherub.

He didn't know that she was biding her time, waiting for an opportunity to sneak out of sight while he talked with her brother and sister. It was her job to find the storeroom and report back to Violet. " A reconnaissance mission," Klaus had called it. And she was not going to fail.

After all, for most of her young life vigilance had been more important than the shoes on her feet. _I'll be the best spy ever_. _Just wait,_ she told herself. _When he looks away…_

But he didn't, and now a woman was there too, and Sunny wanted to stamp on the floor in frustration.

The lady seemed nice, though. She was older, with white hair. But she seemed relaxed and friendly in a way, in jeans and a plaid, button-down shirt. _Like a farmer wears._ And she smelled like ginger and soda pop, not at all unpleasant.

Apparently, Mr. Engels wanted her to meet them and Sunny thought she might as well go along with it. _For now..._

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," the shopkeeper said. "This is Ethel Borden. She owns a farm spread a ways from town." And he turned to the woman. " These are the kids I was telling you about. The… uh… what did you say your names were? "

Violet extended her hand. _We're well prepared for this, at least._ She couldn't afford to be indecisive, didn't think twice about lying. _Not anymore._ Without missing a beat, she gave the false names they'd chosen earlier, on the long walk from the train.

"The Wilsons," she said. " I'm afraid we didn't introduce ourselves before. I'm Helen, and this is Will and Annabelle."

"Annie," Sunny amended. She preferred the short version; it was more like her real name.

"You can call me Ethie - everyone does. " The elderly woman shook her hand with surprising strength. And then she told them all about the town and her nearest neighbors.

Something about her made Violet think of people she'd met years ago- as her family had been shuffled about from one ordeal to the next.

_The way she talks… as if everybody is inherently good. Or at least, she expects them to be._

Violet understood this as naiveté- she'd seen enough adults with that look to last a dozen lifetimes. This woman belonged to that other world, where integrity prevailed and life was fair, where houses didn't burn and children were not abandoned to the mercy of vile predators.

But just as surely, she had learned that people often saw in others a mirror of themselves. _She believes that everyone is good, because she is good._

"What an adorable little girl you have," The kindly voice encroached on her memories.

"Thanks!" Sunny beamed. She'd never been one to shun a compliment, when it was genuine.

" If you don't mind my saying, you two don't look old enough to have a child her age. How old is she? "

Violet shared a secret glance with her brother, and one simultaneous thought. _Maybe we can trust her._ Suddenly, the whole room seemed lighter somehow.

And she decided to risk a little honesty. "She's our sister."

" I'm four," Sunny told her, as though it were a grand accomplishment.

"Isn't that wonderful ?" Ethie smiled.

Klaus could've sworn the woman felt just as proud of Sunny as he and Violet did. She was frank and outspoken, if a bit nosy. Not unlike his little sister, when he thought about it.

Sunny's natural curiosity got the better of her then. "Do you have any kids?"

"Why, yes, I do. I have a son, but I seldom see him. He's away, serving in the army."

"A regular hero," Mr. Engels put in. " It's been some time since his last visit."

" That's very true," she went on. "And it would be so nice to have him home again. You see," she said to the Baudelaires, " I've lived alone on the farm since my husband died last year."

_She looks sad_ , Sunny thought. _I wish I could give her a hug._

"I hear you kids were asking about work. Lord knows I could use some help, if you're interested. I can't pay much but room and board."

Another look passed between Violet and Klaus, a tacit conversation, and he understood her question as well as if she'd spelled it out for him.

His response was the barest hint of a nod, imperceptible to everyone but her. And she had the answer she wanted.

" We'd be pleased to come and work for you, Mrs. Borden. I mean…" Violet paused, a bit self-conscious. " I mean, Ethie." She wasn't used to such openness with strangers.

"Really? You'll really give us a job?" Sunny could scarcely contain herself, and she launched herself at Ethie, hugging her legs. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Klaus wondered if he should intervene before Sunny accidentally knocked her down, but the woman seemed delighted with the little girl.

"Bless me," she said. " If I didn't need the help I could use the company."

* * *

 

The farmhouse was as warm and comfortable as it was isolated, Klaus thought. There were no beds in the room he shared with Violet and Sunny, but they made do with the blankets and pillows they'd borrowed from Ethie. It had been her sewing room, he guessed, judging by the machine in the far corner.

_How quickly things can change… One minute we were ready to resort to breaking and entering, or worse, and now…. Who would've imagined we'd be here, on a farm?_

Their new employer couldn't have been more thoughtful and generous. She treated them like a doting grandmother, and she was especially fond of Sunny.

Nearly two months had passed since their arrival, without incident. Sunny recovered from her cold, and his ankle had healed well enough, though he never did rest it properly.

No unforeseen problems had emerged, and no malevolent stalkers had come knocking at the old screen door. Yet here he was, staring at the ceiling on another sleepless night.

His near-flawless memory wouldn't let him forget… It would surely be the end of him… And not only him… _Violet…_ Her voice, and the look in her eyes when she told Sunny that nothing would tear their family apart…

Together, he knew they could conquer any misfortune, outlast any adversary lying in wait. But now, the threat was inside of him, like acid in his blood… and if he didn't find some way to control it…

He'd never cared about sharing a room with his sisters before, but this… this was torture, plain and simple, and the more he fought it the more he felt…

Sunny provided a welcome diversion, but in her absence, he was afraid of what he might do. And he couldn't avoid Violet. _Not always…_

Before dawn, day in and day out, there were chores to be done in the barn. Violet didn't want to drag her little sister out into the frigid air, and truth be told, neither did he.

So it was only the two of them, alone each morning, and at first, he thought it would kill him. Yet, in a strange sort of paradox, he was glad just to be with her.

When their work was finished, they'd open the barn doors to see the sunrise. It had become a kind of ritual with them, ever since that first morning under the open sky. Violet would lean against the doorframe, looking out across the fields, now covered in a dusting of frost and snow that glittered like a sea of glass fragments.

_The reflected sunlight will blind us_ _if it snows any harder_ , he thought. _Things are different out here_. Without the piercing city lights, the black of night seemed deeper, the dawn that much more beautiful in contrast. He could understand how it came to be a symbol of hope.

Violet seemed to draw solace from the idea of starting again with the new day. In the morning, all worries fell from his sister, and when she closed her eyes he knew that she was somewhere far away.

But he'd never had use for such imagery. Like Sisyphus eternally pushing the boulder up the hill, to Klaus the dawn stood for a fruitless, never-ending task; another day to get through.

Did she see better days ahead? No matter how he tried, he couldn't see the future as she did. While she watched the sun and snowfall, he watched her. And these moments sustained him, gave him hope.

They never lasted long enough. Without fail, Ethie would ring the iron cowbell on the front porch to call them in for breakfast; and dutifully, they would go. She insisted on cooking for them, as a way to show her appreciation, and she would not take "No" for an answer.

_She's a good cook. Not like the rest of us, although Sunny's learning fast…_

He shifted onto his side, wincing in discomfort. His spare moments were filled with running now, with push-ups and sit-ups and other forms of exercise he'd read about, but never tried before.

He'd believed that exhaustion would ward off the deplorable thoughts that hounded him constantly. If nothing else, he was growing stronger; his sore muscles were a testament to that. But his mind gave no quarter, not even in sleep.

At night, he would tumble, bone-weary, into his pile of quilts, unable even to think of his own name. And still, she was there, inside his head and in his heart.…

In dreams, he'd kiss her endlessly, breathing her breath, and she would hold onto him…. her body curled around his… her skin soft all over….

_Centripetal force… That's what it is..._ The term he'd once gleaned from a physics book seemed especially apt… As if he were trapped in a winding maze, all his roads led back to her, to Violet. There could be no escape.

She was sleeping now- he saw her from across the room, her arm draped over Sunny on the makeshift pallet they shared.

God, how he wanted to trade places with his baby sister… The first pangs of jealousy set in, with the all-too-familiar shame, and immediately, he chastised himself. _What's wrong with me? I can't be like this._ He felt like a traitor, betraying their trust in him.

How many times had he wished for the courage to tell Violet the truth? _Should I do it? Should I tell them both? They'll be devastated… they'll hate me… Sunny's resilient, but this might scar her forever…. We're her stability, her one constant. How can I take that away from her? And Violet's suffered enough, with Olaf and those other perverted men…_

Awareness hit him then, painful and nauseating. _Is that what I am? A pervert?_ As much as he despised himself, he believed it to be true.

He chanced another look at Violet and Sunny. _How can I leave them?_ And he felt a tightening in his chest. _I can't keep pretending…._ The future was apparent to him now- his future- bleak and desolate as a wasteland. A part of him would die without his sisters. _But there's no other way._

Would they ever forgive him, when he couldn't forgive himself? He pulled out his pocket watch, now ticking along flawlessly, and with admiration, he remembered how Violet had fixed the inner workings with a toothpick and the small metal point of an earring.

Another stab of pain tore through him. _I'll never be with her…_

The thought was like a stranglehold, choking the air out of his lungs, and he sighed heavily; it was nearly two o'clock. _Maybe I should just go now_.

But he remembered the animals and all the work that she'd have to do alone. And, compelled by guilt, he found himself lighting a lantern and heading out to the barn.

Without Violet, the morning chores took more time than he'd expected; two hours elapsed before he finally headed back to the house.

As soon as he walked through the door, he felt his heart skip twice over. Violet was there, pale in the lantern light, awake and dressed and visibly irritated with him.

"Klaus, what are you doing?" Her voice was a heightened whisper. " We're supposed to share the work- you know that."

" I… I couldn't sleep," he offered lamely.

"You might've waited for me."

" I've been waiting…. to talk to you. " Even in her borrowed, hand-me-down work clothes, she was so beautiful… _How can I do this?_

It was too painful to see her, to want her in every possible way, to know that it would never be…

He tore his eyes from her, one thought resonating in his mind. " I'm going away, Vi- I can't stay here."

She sighed. This wasn't the first time he'd talked of leaving… Sometimes she could still feel the draft in the cramped, dusty room in Olaf's horrid old house. The boarded-up windows, and the rancid smells that wafted up from the kitchen… A shudder ran through her. " Why, Klaus? Is it really so bad here?"

He shook his head. " I can't…I can't hurt you, Vi, you or Sunny… I have to go."

" So that's it, then? You're just going to leave? Don't you think that will hurt us?"

The look on her face was more than he could bear. " If I stay… you don't know…"

"You think we'll be better off without you?" She wanted to shake him, to drive out this imposter and bring back the brother she knew. "It's always been the three of us together. Do we mean so little to you, Klaus?"

" No, Vi … That's the problem." Speech seemed an enormous task, beyond his capability. "You mean too much to me."

"Klaus," she cornered him, forcing him to meet her eyes directly. "What is it? Have I done something?"

_She'll blame herself for this._ He was in turmoil, guilty of a transgression far worse than stealing, and he loved her… More than anything, he loved her….

"Violet, I love you," the words flew out of him before he could think, pure impulse taking over.

_Oh my god..._ He looked to her immediately, panic-stricken, but she didn't seem the least bit scandalized.

"And I love you," she said, bemused. "You're my brother."

He flinched, as if she'd struck him, and his wounded expression sent her spiraling into regret.

_I've hurt him…_ She'd never felt quite so alone, so entirely at a loss. She only knew that, somehow, she had to convince him to stay. "Klaus, please, don't go. Sunny needs you… I need you, too."

Without warning, he rushed at her, catching her mouth with his. She was intoxicating- sweeter than any feeling his mind could conjure- and he poured all that he had into the kiss, all of his love and hunger and pain.

Her eyes went wide, body stiff with shock, but she didn't push him away, didn't recoil as he'd thought she would. He shut his eyes, kissed her until they were both dazed and breathless. And he was vaguely aware of her hands grasping at his shirt, holding on like he was the last true thing she'd ever see…

They were pressed together, the wall at her back, his forehead against hers. She could feel his breath, his hair under her fingers. And she kissed him then, faint as a brushstroke…

But he reeled back, appalled as he realized what had happened. "Vi, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," It seemed he couldn't say it enough.

She didn't speak, only touched the back of her hand to her lips. She could still feel him there.

"Do you see, now? Do you see why I have to go? I love you, Vi… I'm in love with you."

He said it like he was confessing to a crime, and she wanted to scream, to laugh and cry all at once.

_He loves me… He loves me, he loves me, he loves me…_ The words reverberated, filling the dark places in her mind, wrapping around her, and she felt liberated suddenly, as if she’d stepped out of a shadow.

But his voice ripped into her thoughts, until only the frayed, jagged edges remained. " I can't help it, Vi. I don't want to love you. I don't want any of this."

It was too much, a violent tumult of emotion. She couldn't stifle it, couldn't face him anymore. And she ran away from the farmhouse, away from her brother, leaving him in the echo of her sobs and the sound of the screen door slamming shut.

 


	8. Synchronicity

Disclaimer: Standard.

Warnings: Incest

* * *

 

Synchronicity

 

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

 

~ Jane Austen; _Pride and Prejudice_

 

Nothing ever looks the same in the light

Nothing ever seems to quite turn out right

But when you realize that you have been loved

You will never be alone.

 

 ~ “Where the Lost Ones Go”

 

 

* * *

 

He found Violet in one of the empty horse stalls, her back stiff against the hard wood planks. She seemed to sense his presence behind her. "Is it true, Klaus? Are you really going to leave because of me? "

He swallowed hard. Stoic as she was, he could still read her like a book. Bitter pain smoldered in his sister's tone and in her posture. And he knew without doubt that he was to blame. _I wanted to protect Violet, and I've done nothing but hurt her._

Perhaps it was too late to ask for her forgiveness…maybe he never had a chance at all...

"No," he said. "Not because of you. This is all my fault." She tiled her head toward him, her face displaying anger and vulnerability, and something else he couldn't name.

It might have been a flicker of hope, or a sign that she was plotting his demise. After the way he'd acted, he wouldn't blame her. He sighed deeply. Whatever the outcome, he had to explain himself- he owed her that much.

"Vi, when I said I didn't want to love you, I didn't mean it." He hardly recognized the sound of his own voice. "I do...want to love you... But I…. I can't be around you." The words hurt him as he spoke. "I can't look at you without wanting to kiss you- I want to kiss you, Violet!"

She hugged her knees, staring at her folded hands. "I know," she sobbed. "I… Everyone leaves, Klaus, everyone… But I never thought…." She raised dark, red-rimmed eyes to his face. "I never thought you would."

He grasped for words, not knowing what to say. "You're strong, Vi, more than you think. You don't need me."

"Yes, I do," her voice was small, frail as a hair's breadth. "I need you, Klaus … I can't do this alone."

And his resolve died in an instant, slipping like sand through his fingers. "You're not alone," he told her. "You're not alone, Vi. If you want me to stay, I'll stay."

"Klaus, come here," she gestured to him. "Come sit with me."

Her brother remained where he stood, not trusting himself. She might as well have asked him to cross a minefield.

"Please," she said. "I can't bear it if we don't make things right."

Apprehensive, he sat down beside her then, though he did not take the hand she held out to him.

Such a small act, but how dangerous it would be, how devastating to his fragile threads of restraint. Didn't she understand? They'd always had an extraordinary connection. It was the reason for their seamless partnership, their ability to support one another. And it was, he thought, the one thing that might explain how they'd survived the last three years.

But now, the bond that had kept them alive was killing him. How could anything ever be right again?

Violet saw the unshed tears in his eyes, the discordant feelings grating at him like savage claws. She felt it too- the storm inside. What would become of them, desperate as they were for something solid to cling to? They had only each other, and a dear little sister who needed them to be strong. All else was evanescent, intangible as the memory of their parents.

She couldn’t be sure if this was right or wrong, but Klaus was here, now, looking at her with all the love in the world. It was brotherly, and it was not, and she only knew that she wanted it- wanted him- as she'd never wanted anything before.

His head was a patchwork of thoughts, and he found that he could only focus on the liquid green of her eyes. "Vi, I'm sorry... I want to be your brother, but I can't." He was disconsolate. “I want to be...more than that...but I can't. I don't know what to do."

Summoning all her courage, she grabbed his hand; swiftly, before he could react. There was an instant of stunned silence, a spark of electricity as their fingers touched. "Kiss me," she said, "and be both."

Slowly, tentatively, his hand moved to the side of her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Say it again," he asked, half afraid that he was dreaming.

She smiled, like a breeze in summer, and he felt himself falling all over again.

"Kiss me. If you don't I'll-"

Her voice was cut off abruptly as he complied, and she melted into his arms. His lips were warm and gentle, coaxing hers apart... as if he wanted to memorize every facet of her, every detail.

But a vibrant intensity simmered just beneath the surface, a current of yearning barely contained. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She could taste the wind on him, the rain-soaked leaves, sawdust and sweat and the exhilarating freedom of their first narrow escape...

_Everything happens for a reason.._.. And she felt it now... all their shared memories of ashes and death and human evil, of hardship and adventure and challenges well-met; all were present in his kiss, in this moment, in the people they had become.

The unfortunate events of their lives had brought them here, to the hay-strewn barn and to each other. Whether by destiny or chance, they shared something unfathomable, deeper than love. And she knew she’d never willingly give herself to anyone but him…

With that, a rush of shame arose, unbidden, and she pulled away. _This is my brother! What am I doing?_ She bowed her head, unable to look at him, breathing hard as he was.

"Violet..." The concern in his voice broke her heart. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's just that I... I feel too much." His face reflected the same guilt that threatened to overcome her. "It's right, with you everything is right. But we shouldn't... we shouldn't."

"I know," he said. "It’s wrong, because of them." He cast an angry glance at the stall door, the outside world that would never understand. "You know they won't accept this."

He pulled absently at a loose string on his sleeve, feeling defeated. But his eyes held tender adoration when they found hers again. "I can't be without you. Even if it's wrong, I can't be without you."

She met his gaze then, tears streaming down her face. How could she turn away from him when he looked at her that way? As if she were his everything, as if...everything were possible.

So often, men treated her as little more than an object. She would never forget the way Olaf had gloated over her on that crude, garish stage, his intent abundantly clear. _You're mine now. I can do whatever I want with you…_ The thought still made her sick.

Klaus was different. He saw _her_ , the woman she was inside, and she could feel it. He knew her better than anyone, perhaps even better than she knew herself.

_But it's no simple matter, for us to be...more than brother and sister._ It would require the perseverance of heroes, not to mention tenacious audacity and deception. They'd have to keep it carefully hidden from everyone, always. _For as long as we're together... maybe for the rest of our lives..._ Did either of them have the strength to see it through?

Her brother did, of that she was certain. _And maybe, just maybe, so do I._

She thought of him, a stream of feelings and images, one after another; of Klaus testing her inventions and working alongside her, always a partner and confidant, and the best friend she'd ever had. How many times had she watched him reading or carrying Sunny and felt her heart warm at the sight? Was it mere, sisterly affection that caused her to blush and turn aside when he looked her way?

Understanding swept over her like a wave on a sandy shore: she'd loved him even then. Who could tell when they had crossed the line? It was already too late.

Through her tears, he saw the feelings she could not describe, the unspoken thoughts behind her eyes. And he forgot to breathe.

"I'm already in love with you," she said, with something akin to wonder. "I think I always have been."

In a split second, his tenuous control deserted him. He caught her mouth with his, both of them losing their balance, tumbling into a pile of dry straw. The wiry strength of his body engulfed her and she slid her arms around his neck.

There was too much suppressed emotion between them, too much need. His hands were in her hair, bringing her closer, and she arched into him as she kissed him back. He was holding her and she couldn't think, only wanted to immerse herself in the perfect feeling of him.

Her parted lips were like a drug to his system, and he nudged her mouth open, seeking more. She kissed him harder, clutching at his shoulders, their bodies aligned as if they were made to fit together…

A sudden, ringing noise startled them, and they fell apart, gasping. It was Ethie's bell, calling them to breakfast.

"You know, we missed the sunrise," he said teasingly, nose to nose with his sister.

She took hold of his shirt, kissing him again. "Mmmm," she sighed. "I hadn't noticed."

Reluctantly, they staggered to their feet, brushing dirt and hay from their clothing.

"Violet..." His hands were gentle at her waist, his lips meeting hers once more, softly.

"Klaus, promise you won't ever leave us..." She was so light in his arms, her breath warm at the side of his mouth. "Promise you won't leave me."

"I won't... I won't leave. I promise." He closed his eyes, wondering how he'd ever considered it. He would need all his willpower just to let go of her now.

"We shouldn't keep Ethie waiting. If we're gone too long..."

"Yeah," he intoned. "She'll come looking for us."

"I'd better get Sunny."

A pang hit his chest as he released her, even though she wouldn't be far away. _It's not just the two of us. There are other people to think of, especially Sunny._

But, despite his best intentions, he was captivated.

Violet's hair fell loose around her face, tousled, as if she'd just come awake from a long sleep, her eyes heavy-lidded and lips swollen from his kisses. Part of him worried that someone would suspect… but it was all he could do to keep from seizing her into his arms again.

His thoughts were open to her then, the love and desire he'd fought to conceal, and she felt her knees go weak. "Tomorrow morning," she whispered, as if the walls would betray their secret.

His eyes followed her as she moved to the door. She was a maze of contradictions, delicate and graceful and stronger than he would ever be. Violet flashed him a radiant smile before she went to wake Sunny, and he knew that all the life-sustaining moments in his memory could not compare with this one.

 


	9. Contact

Disclaimer: standard.

Warning: incest.

* * *

 

 

Contact

"Touch seems to be as essential as sunlight."

\- Diane Ackerman; _A Natural History of The Senses_

* * *

 

The next morning, and each morning after that, Violet and Klaus managed to wake earlier than usual for their chores, carving an additional hour out of the day. It was the only time they could be alone together. Leaving Sunny comfortably asleep, they would steal away to one of the empty horse stalls, and there, become lost in each other until the sun rose.

Violet sighed softly as her brother kissed a trail along the side of her neck, running her fingers through his hair. His lips claimed each fraction of the skin above her open shirt collar, every inch, every angle, though he was always careful never to leave a mark.

Klaus loved to kiss patterns on her skin, loved to feel her relax in his arms and hear her sigh his name. He sat on the dirt floor of the barn now, with Violet nestled against him, close as could be. They were like two interwoven threads in a tapestry, two parts of one whole.

Her blue flannel shirt fell slightly open, revealing the dip in front of her throat, and he rested his head there, breathing her in. It didn't matter to him that she smelled of cattle and straw, or that she wore the hand-me-down clothes of a farm boy. She was beautiful.

In the wake of his confession, an undeniable knot of agony had settled in his chest. Even now, he could hardly sleep as he imagined Violet in his arms, with no barriers between them and no fear.

But he wouldn't pressure his sister, or embarrass her by rushing too fast. Instead, he ran his hands over her back and legs, feeling the heated skin beneath her clothes. Just touching her was enough to send his mind spinning.

His mouth traveled up the arc of her shoulders, and he drove her insane. Nothing could be sweeter than this, the sense of being cherished completely... But she wanted more.

She ached for his touch, even through the barrier of fabric, but he always avoided the most intimate areas of her body. Nearly a month had passed since their first kiss, and not once had he tried to move things along... She was beginning to wonder if he ever would.

"Klaus wait, wait please."

"Vi?" He stilled immediately, lifting his head. "Do you want to stop?"

"No, no," she said quickly. "It's wonderful, really." And she touched his face with her fingertips, in the way that she knew would banish his concerns.

Her smile warmed him as she laced their fingers together, as she brought his hand down over her neck, and lower still...

A gulp caught in his throat. "Vi…are you sure?"

She clasped his palm to her breast then, her green, green eyes set on his. "There's no shame in this, Klaus, not if you love me."

Slowly, she guided his other hand alongside the first, and she could feel the incredible tension in his entire body.

Her forehead came to rest against his, soft sighs escaping her at the slightest movement of his fingers…

And he allowed his hands to roam, cupping her fully. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, through her top and brassiere, and she cried out. She swayed and he reached forward to steady her, fearing she would fall.

He pulled her into his lap, supporting her back against his chest. "I love you, Violet."

She leaned into him, panting. "Klaus...I..." The words were a breath in the air, barely formed.

Then his hands covered her breasts once more, squeezing gently, his mouth hot on the nape of her neck. And she reveled in the electrifying contact, clutching at his hands as if to keep him there.

It was more than he could stand, more than she could stand, and his only thought was that he would let nothing separate them. _No more secrets… never again…._

She blinked, lightheaded, as the warmth of his touch disappeared suddenly. And then she felt his hands untucking her shirt from her trousers...slipping inside ...

"Vi," he spoke into her hair, voice breaking. "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to-"

But she only tilted her head, to meet his mouth in a feverish kiss.

His fingers burrowed underneath her brassiere, touching her, skin to skin, for the first time. Violet jolted, moaning into his lips. He pushed both hands under the garment then, smoothing over her stomach and her ribs.

_So warm_... Her breasts fit perfectly in his hands and he could feel every beat of her heart. She was soft like moonlight, his sister, and he drew slow circles on her nipples, the tiny, sensitive nubs growing hard beneath his palms.

He swallowed her moans as his hands kneaded her, firmly, tenderly. His grip was warm and strong... She let her head fall back, rocking her body with his in a subconscious rhythm. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and she closed her eyes, overwhelmed with sensation.

Back and forth he rocked her, while she trembled and whimpered and pressed his hands closer. She was so tense, coiled tight like a spring, and now his own body was screaming for relief along with hers. It was too much... he couldn't stop... didn't know what to do next.

Just then, they both heard the insistent sound of a cow bell. Breakfast was ready.

 


	10. Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus was never one to look on the surface of anything.

Disclaimer: standard.

Warning: incest

* * *

 

Beautiful

"And so, they find themselves through the darkness, through the sadness, making

love, making peace, making music. They find themselves, through the chaos,

making sense. This is what they want. This is who they are. These are the

things they need."

Sophie B. Hawkins, "Don't Stop Swaying"

* * *

 

"Klaus! Sunny!" Violet shielded her eyes with one hand as she surveyed the thin line of trees behind the farmhouse. The ground was a blanket of slush and melting snow, and for a moment she nearly lost her footing. _They're out here somewhere..._

"Violet, Violet save me!" Sunny came running up, her red knitted scarf trailing behind her.

"Sunny, hold still a minute." Violet tucked the scarf in closer around her neck. "You don't want to lose this, right? What would Ethie say, after she went to all that trouble?"

"I know," Sunny said, impatient, "but he's coming to get me!" She tried to duck behind Violet's skirts.

Violet looked up then. She might've been alarmed if she hadn't seen who was chasing her little sister. "Klaus, what have you done to her?"

"What have _I_ done to _her_? She knocked a whole snowdrift down on me!"

Their brother was covered in snow, the white particles sticking in his hair, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"He was right under the tree." Sunny dissolved into giggles. "It was perfect." And then she dashed away.

"You look like Jack Frost." Violet shared a glance with him, laughter dancing in her eyes, and he grinned.

"It's okay," he said good-naturedly. "You can laugh."

She brushed some of the snow from his shoulders and his head, and then she tugged one of her gloves off. "What am I going to do with you?"

Her bare fingers slid through his hair, against his face, and he remembered the soft curves of her body, the heat of her skin under his hands...

"Vi," he pulled her hand down gently. "You'd better not do that."

Color rushed to her cheeks. "Oh Klaus, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..."

"Don't be," he could feel his face turning red. "Don't be sorry. It's just that I... Hey!" he shouted as a flying snowball hit him in the shoulder. Sprightly child-laughter echoed behind him. "Sunny, you'd better run!"

In a few strides he grabbed hold of her, and Sunny shrieked as he spun her around. It was all in fun.

"Ahem," Violet cleared her throat pointedly, waited until she had their attention. "You two should come inside soon. It's getting dark."

"Awww... Please, can't we have ten more minutes?" Sunny turned pleading eyes to her.

Violet looked to her brother- he wore the same pleading expression.

"Alright, ten more minutes," she said. " But will you promise to come in, then?"

Klaus was grinning at her. "We promise. Right, Sunny?"

"Right!"

Violet ruffled the little girl's hair. "That's good, because..." She caught her brother's eye then. "... promises mean everything."

God, how badly he wanted to tackle her and kiss her senseless in that moment **.** She gave him a small smile, knew it as well as he did. And there could be no doubt that she wanted him to...

Abruptly, she turned to leave, to put some distance between them. It was hard work, this secret of theirs. _We're always together, but not really, not in the way we want to be..._

She drew a deep, calming breath, urging her heart to slow before she entered the house again. _Ethie probably won't notice, but I can't be too sure... And Sunny...How much did she see?_ It seemed inevitable that their little sister would discover what they had been doing. _We have to be more careful._

* * *

 

Ethie was sipping a cup of tea at the kitchen window when Violet walked in.

"Hello dear, would you like some?" The old woman nodded toward the tea kettle on the stove.

"Yes, thank you," she said. " It is a bit cold out there." And she went to pour herself a cup.

"Too bad she has no other children to play with." Evidently, Ethie had been watching Sunny and Klaus out in the snow.

"He'll do for now," She smiled, warmth flooding through her as she saw her brother hoist Sunny onto his shoulders. _This is how it's supposed to be._

"Whatever happened to your parents, dear?" Ethie's voice broke into her thoughts. "I don't believe you ever told me."

"They died," she said softy. " They died when she was baby."

"It's never easy to lose family, I know."

"You said you lost your husband..." Violet hated to bring up the painful subject, but

she had to move the conversation away from her family. _I can't reveal too much. Not to her, not to anyone..._

The elderly woman smiled sadly. " He was a fine man, my Arthur. It was terrible when he passed on, and Gerard moved away. But at least I know where they are. To lose her, the first time...that was the worst of it."

"The first time?" Violet looked at her sharply. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

" The first time...When I lost my daughter."

" You had a daughter?" Compassion filled her eyes. _That explains why she's so taken with Sunny._

"I _have_ a daughter," Ethie told her. "Emma was about your age dear, just a week past eighteen, when she eloped with that boy... What was his name... Jimmy, I think. My memory's not what it used to be, you understand."

She nodded, listening.

" We didn't like him much," Ethie continued. "His father was a drunkard, you see. But she was in love, and she seemed so happy... We just couldn't stand in their way."

"Why did she elope? I mean, if you didn't try to stop her from... from seeing him?" Violet was intrigued by the story, in spite of herself.

" To this day, I don't know why she left. I think it must've been her disagreement with Gerard."

"Gerard is your son, isn't he?" Violet asked. " I think you've mentioned him before."

"That he is," she said. " And he was a good big brother. He really wanted the best for Emma, kept saying Jimmy wasn't right for her. I guess she just got tired of hearing it. She and Jimmy went out one evening, and never came home."

Her voice was tinged with regret. "That was twelve years ago... Not a word from either of them since. "

"I'm sorry," Violet laid a hand on the older woman's arm. " You must miss her very much."

"Well, having you three here makes it easier, let me tell you. And that little one of yours... She's a pistol."

Violet couldn't help but smile at the fitting description of her sister. " We think so, too."

"It's wonderful to have a child in the house again. For years, I've been after Gerard to find a nice girl and settle down. But I just can't understand it. All the girls he likes up and leave, just like Emma. Here one day and gone the next." She gave a small huff of annoyance. " I suppose it's to be expected in a small town."

And Violet was anticipating her next words even before she said them.

"I have pictures of him somewhere."

Ethie set her teacup on the counter. " If you'll just excuse me a moment..." She went into her bedroom and Violet could hear her rummaging around. From the sound of it, she was trying to move a heavy piece of furniture...

There was a loud bang, and a crash, and Violet ran to the hallway. "Ethie, are you okay?"

"I seem to have misplaced my photo albums," came the quick reply.

"Do you need help?"

"No, no, they're not on the shelves."

_She's losing her hearing_ , Violet realized. _She can't make out what I'm saying._

"Ahh, well," Ethie stood in the doorway to her room, apparently none the worse for wear. "Another time, then. What a pity." She shook her head. "He's the best looking boy in a thousand miles. Everyone says so." And then she winked at Violet. "He would like you, I think."

Violet managed a brief smile, outwardly polite. But she could feel a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. _I don't like where this is going..._

* * *

 

The wind was cold, and after Klaus and Sunny had returned, as promised, the Baudelaires built a fire in the hearth.

"It's a nice night for a story," Ethie had suggested, and then she'd brought out a dog-eared book of folk tales, asking if they would like to read it.

She went to bed early that night, as she often did. And so it was only the three of them, and the fire and the rambling words of an age-old story. Violet shifted slightly, lulled by the sound of her brother's voice. He was in his element, a natural storyteller, absorbed in the book as he read aloud. _I could sit here all night, just to look at him._

She'd never thought she would be comfortable in such close proximity to a fire. Where others saw light and home and belonging, she had only ever seen loss.

And she remembered her earlier conversation with Ethie. _Even after all this time, the grief is still so near...Some wounds don't heal...at least, not entirely._

But here, with her sleepy-eyed little sister on her lap, she could almost appreciate the beauty of the flickering flames. _Almost..._

Sunny had grown quiet, her breathing even and steady. _She's asleep._

"Klaus," she spoke softly, interrupting him in mid-sentence, and he lifted his eyes from the page. The room suddenly seemed too hot, the air heavy and stifling...

He closed the book. "Let me take her."

"It's alright," she said. "I've got her." With the ease of long practice, she rose to her feet, carrying Sunny. "Will you put out the fire?"

Her brother nodded, and she touched his arm lightly as she passed him. _Wait for me_ , she seemed to say.

He stirred the ashes and logs with the fire poker, until the flames were extinguished and the room went dark.

But when he turned around, he could see her standing there.

Violet was waiting for him, in her coat and shoes, their tattered blue blanket and his jacket draped over one arm.

"Come on," she hissed. "Before Sunny wakes up."

And he knew that he would follow her wherever she wanted to go.

* * *

 

Hurriedly, they made their way back to the barn- their sanctuary, as he was beginning to think of it. Klaus had taken the lantern from the front porch, and he lit it now, watched the faint amber firelight play across Violet's face... her unbound hair... He wanted to see her.

Under her coat, she wore a white cotton nightdress Ethie had given her when they'd first arrived. It was too big for his sister's slender frame, long sleeves cuffed at her wrists. The wide neckline fell askew, over the pale skin of her collarbone, her shoulder...

He could only stand there, speechless. Nothing he'd read had prepared him for this.

Her lips were desperate on his as they came together, all heat and muffled gasps. His hands traced the contours of her body through the nightgown, up her spine and into her hair. And she didn't have to remind him to be gentle... _He's holding back..._

He could feel her fingers tugging his jacket aside, working at the buttons on his shirt, and he lowered his arms, let it all fall away... She was touching him, her hands smooth on his shoulders, and he needed to feel her, needed her bare skin against his.

She kissed his neck and above his heartbeat, felt a shiver run through him as she buried her face in his chest. He was warm and solid, a safe haven, and she couldn't be strong anymore.

Tears glinted on his skin, cool like rain, slight, shuddering sobs wracking her body. "Don't cry, Violet, don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I…I didn't think it would ever be like this for me... That I'd be...with someone I love..."

His own eyes were wet and he tightened his hold on her, brushed a kiss to her forehead.

"No more pain, Klaus," her voice was like silk, a whisper. "I don't want to hurt anymore."

She slipped out of his arms then, stepping backward.

"Shh..." She placed a finger to her mouth. And then she unfastened the two buttons at the top of her nightdress, allowed it to slide from her shoulders...

Every muscle in his body went rigid as the white gown pooled at Violet's feet. His gaze descended, to the soft curves he'd touched but never seen, and then back to her face. Her eyes were luminous, trusting, drawing him in...

With a growl, he pulled her to him, kissing her recklessly. She could feel every inch of him, the firm lines of his frame pressed against hers, warm and hard and achingly close...

His hands curled around her, sculpting her breasts, tender, possessive, and she was reeling.

In a sudden flash she wanted his lips there, in place of his fingers, claiming her in the same way. She wanted to give everything to him...

They clung together as he lowered her onto the blanket, so careful, his mouth never straying from hers.

She was smooth, all delicate skin, and he kissed his way down her chest, heard her breath catch as he nuzzled his face against her.

"Violet..." He was breathless and she thrilled to the soft vibrations of his voice.

"Don't let go... just don't let go..."

She felt his tongue then, the warm ecstasy of his mouth, his arms tight around her... It was right, so beautifully right, as if they were born to be a part of one another. There would be no one else. _Only him...always..._

And she could've stayed forever, if not for the stirring ache deep inside, the pressure of his hand, inching closer...

"Klaus!" She cried out, and his fingers glided between her thighs- easily, as if they belonged there. She was precious and beautiful and he couldn't think, gave free reign to his instincts.

He felt alive, his senses heightened and attuned to her... every moment, every sound etched into the canvass of his memory... so piercingly bright...

Tremors coursed like music through her body, and his lips lingered on the swell of her breast, hands wandering idly over her hips and legs.

"Vi?" He rested his weight on his elbows. _I've never done this before..._ His sister lay beneath him, quivering. "Are you okay?"

The ardor in her upturned face nearly daunted him. He wondered if he would ever be worthy of this, worthy of Violet. No one could deserve her, least of all himself.

She ruled his mind in a way that he couldn't explain, rendered him helpless. But he felt invincible when he looked in her eyes. Sin and virtue, frailty and strength- she saw it all, and loved him still.

"I am now." She smiled languorously, and he grinned, taking in her rose-colored skin, the way her eyes sparkled with feeling.

"You're so beautiful."

"Please, don't say that." She turned her head aside, the dim light casting shadows on her features.

"Why not?" His brow furrowed. Surely she didn't think he would lie to her, or try to manipulate her to... "It is true, you know."

She sighed. "What good is it, Klaus? It won't save me or anyone... It isn't real. Please, don't love me for that. Say I'm kind or brave or resourceful or strong."

"You are." He looked at her in awe. _She doesn't know... "_ Violet, you're all of those things." His grin returned, and he kissed the tip of her nose. "You are beautiful."

Her eyes lit up in understanding... he was speaking of her soul. _He always did look beneath the surface.._. _I should've thought..._

Then he was kissing her, deeply, slowly, covering her with the weight of his body ... And she wanted to touch him...

Her hand reached out, as if of its own accord, skimmed over him in bold curiosity, and he inhaled sharply.

She sealed her mouth to his, unloosing the buckle on his pants, freeing him from his clothing...

His face hovered inches from hers, eyes closed, when she saw him, all of him, for the first time.

Slim fingers slid down past his stomach, featherlight touches making him shudder.

She wrapped him in a sweet caress, gentle, relentless, and his lungs burned. _No more pain..._

His hips bucked into Violet's hand, soft moans tearing from him as he kissed her harder and everything was light and thunder. He could only sob her name into her neck, both of them shaking and crying softly.

"Shhh..." She held him, her one hand drifting through his hair, across his back and shoulders.

All was made right in the quiet afterglow. Klaus rolled to the side, not letting go of her, even for a second. He felt her in every pulse of the blood in his veins, in the air around, in his senses and his thoughts.

With a contented sigh, Violet snuggled into him. She breathed in the smell of the wind outside, the animals and straw, and the heady scent of his body, of their shared passion. There was peace here, in her brother's arms, and she was grateful for it.

 


	11. The First Time

Disclaimer: standard.

Warnings: incest, sexual content.

* * *

 

The First Time

"There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved."

~George Sand

* * *

 

Morning arrived early in these parts, though Klaus was awake well before he had to be, hearing Violet stir in the bunk below him. He sat up, only just catching himself, forgetting for a moment that he was awfully close to the ceiling.

The bunk bed was sturdy enough to hold him. He and Violet had built it together, from a stack of discarded planks and beams they'd found in the barn. Straw-filled mattresses were a luxury after weeks of sleeping on the ground, and he lay back, ran his hand over the wood, now sanded smooth. He couldn't help thinking of her.

Violet slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her sister, and she reached for the candle they kept on the little sewing table by the window.

He could see the outline of her silhouette in the darkness, the pinprick of light as she struck a match. The candle flared, illuminating her face... She smiled into his eyes when she caught him staring.

A quick glimpse of Sunny assured him that she was still asleep...

Violet blinked, and he was there, in front of her... so close... She could feel the warmth of his body, the powerful, indefinable magnetism that bound them together.

And his mind was no mystery to her. She knew how he wanted to undress her, to run his lips across her bare skin and...A pang stabbed through her at the thought. How many times had she forced herself to stop him?

"Klaus," she laid a hand on his chest, glanced toward Sunny's sleeping form. "We shouldn't...not here."

She held up her work clothes, and he grinned. It was simple enough for him. He'd throw on a clean shirt and be done with it. But Violet...

On impulse, he turned his back to her- a habit ingrained in him after years of living in close quarters with his sisters. And he had to laugh at himself, averting his eyes when there was scarcely an inch on her body that he hadn't seen or kissed or touched.

He lifted his shirt over his head, waited for her to finish dressing before he would.

Moving the window shade back slightly, he peered out into a curtain of rain and gray skies, the farmyard littered with puddles of dark water. They'd be drenched by the time they reached the barn.

Sunny shifted in her sleep, and he looked at her, light curls spilling over the pillows. More often than not, she played the mischievous little scamp, her tiny voice chattering away, peppering them with questions.

She was quiet now, peaceful. And, as he'd done so many times, he promised himself that he would keep her safe; that with Violet, he would build a better life for her. A home...maybe even a family...

In his mind's eye, he saw her; a baby again, wide-eyed in Violet's arms. He felt the sting of regret then. They had nothing to remind them, no pictures, no record of her first words, or the first time she'd lost a tooth. But it was, all of it, inside his head, and he knew that he would remember...

Memories faded, one into another...And then she was no longer Sunny at all... There was a different child in her place...a little girl with sandy brown hair and startling green eyes...

 _No.._. He tried to shove the image aside. _Violet and I...we can never..._ He knew the stories of the old taboos. _They had good reason where children were concerned._ And really, he was getting ahead of himself. _It's impossible, when we haven't..._

Another realization struck him then, and he cursed himself that he hadn't thought of it before. _When the time comes, I have to protect her..._

He was selfish and he knew it, because he wanted her more than he would ever want children, more than all the facets of an ordinary life. _But how can I ask her to do that, to give up so much?_ Guilt swamped him, a heavy weight bearing down on his shoulders.

"Vi...what do you want out of life?"

His voice was strained, tired, and she wondered at the dark thoughts that possessed him suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, a family...a home..." He swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the window. "You want those things, don't you?"

"Well...yes." She shook her head at the question. "You know I do."

"Won't you regret giving that up, because of me?"

"Oh Klaus," she said, gentle, loving the man he had become. "You and Sunny are my family."

He felt her arms embrace him from behind, a kiss between his shoulder blades, and then another. He pulled her closer, hands clasping hers, and she sighed softly, rested her cheek against his back.

"I want to be with you, Klaus." His heart ached at the sound of her voice, the soft press of her body. "I need to be with you."

She lived inside of him, as surely as he could feel it. Breath and blood, soul and senses; he was in thrall, and he would never be free of her.

He never wanted to be free.

* * *

 

They dashed across the yard as fast as they could, and collapsed, laughing, against the barn doors. Inside, the air was calm and humid, and they startled the colony of barn cats with their sudden, windy entrance.

The work was easy this morning, seemed to take no time at all, though Violet supposed that was because she'd kept her distance from her brother.

Even now, she could feel him stealing glances at her, making her burn... She bit her lip, hoping he hadn't seen her smile. _Today will be different..._

He set the lantern beside the door, and then he turned to her. Damp hair fell into his eyes, a hint of a grin played at the corners of his mouth, and in him she saw all that was true and right in the world.

She was in his arms then, lips meeting his in a smoldering kiss. And she felt safe here, always safe with him. But there was danger too; in the chance that someone might come upon them, in the way his eyes darkened as he bent to capture her mouth.

His hands splayed across her back as he deepened the kiss, pulling her body flush with his own. Sometimes it frightened him- how much he needed her, and in how many ways.

His memory was his greatest strength, an arsenal of knowledge at his beck and call; he'd never imagined that he might enjoy feeling his mind go blank. But she moaned against his mouth, fingers curling in his hair, and there was nothing but his sister…her lips, her skin, and this tender intimacy…

Alone with Violet in the quiet of the morning, he could forget who he was and what he knew, and just be hers. Now that they were together, in every sense of the word, he lived for those moments when he could lose himself in her arms. And above all else, he wanted to make her happy.

She leaned into him, body trembling as his fingers found the buttons on her shirt, one by one... The thin fabric fell open, and his hands were inside, and he realized, briefly, that she wore nothing underneath…

"Violet…oh god…Violet…" He kissed the pulse in her neck, heard her sigh as he circled her breasts with his fingertips, stroking lightly…her nipples hard and aching under his thumbs...

It was better than a dream, the warm strength of his hands, his breath on her skin...She thought she would fall apart... "Klaus, please, I need you to...need you..."

He raised his head to look at her, breathing hard.

Did she know how she affected him? How he was starving for her, for every part of her?

Something in her eyes told him she did.

There was no fear, no trace of hesitation, only love and warmth and wanting… A mirror of all he felt.

"Please..." She spoke in a whisper, gaze level with his, eye to eye, face to face.

"I thought you'd never ask." His voice was low and ragged, tinged with relief. And his awe-struck smile made her adore him all the more... as if he still couldn't believe he was allowed to do this, to love her...

They left the lantern behind, their wet clothes discarded in the straw, and she lowered herself down with him, into his lap, her legs straddling his body. He kissed her mouth, her eyes and the curve of her neck, his hands on her breasts, in her hair…He couldn't get enough…

She let him ease her back, strands of hay prickling her bare skin. He trailed his lips over her collarbone, felt her muscles tense and then relax as he loved her with his mouth, the gentle push of his fingers…

Even in near darkness, he remembered every sensitive place he'd discovered, knew just how to touch her…

It was all she could do to keep silent.

Her breaths came in soft gasps, her body warm and open under his, and he wanted to be careful, to keep himself in check. But her fingers were there, against him, light and smooth...

"Vi...I can't...I..."

"Shh," she breathed. "Let me."

The next thing he knew, she was guiding him, locking her legs around his hips. He was beyond all endurance, beyond everything but the need to be inside of her...And he could feel himself shaking, rife with anxiety, with the effort of holding back... _If I hurt her..._

She nearly screamed, a strangled cry, white lights exploding behind her eyes. It felt so different like this...sharp pain...searing heat...and he filled her...

He felt her sob, her body so stiff in his arms, and he thought it would break him. "Vi, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…we don't have to..."

"No, no please." She clutched at him then. "Please...I want you...want you to stay..."

He was struggling for air, for even a hint of self-control and he kissed her neck in small circles, forced himself to focus on the taste of her skin.

She felt everything... the pulsing heat of his body all around her, above her, buried deep inside... And in her head, a voice bid her to let go, to abandon herself to him. _Because he is mine and I am his…_

"I love you." She pushed his hair back, away from his face. "Love you so much...you don't know..."

He claimed another kiss from her, muffled her soft cries as he slid in deeper and deeper still…

"I love you, Vi." His voice sent shivers across her skin, and she held onto him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

He began a rhythm with her then, like a slow, swaying dance, covered her mouth with his as she rocked against him, as he moved in her again and again... And they had never done this before, but they knew the steps...knew each other by heart...

They were soaring, dying, crashing into one another. He could feel the ripples of pleasure running through her, the rise and fall of their bodies in unison, building into a crescendo that they couldn't stop...

And he was close...so close...but in the last sane fraction of his mind, he knew that he couldn't let go…he would have to pull back, to leave her...

"No!" She cried as he broke away. "Klaus, no, please!"

He groaned low in his throat, raw pain rolling through him like fire. "I'm sorry, Vi…We can't risk it...we can't." Her tears were wet on his neck.

 _He's right_ , she told herself. _He's trying to protect me_. But that didn't make it any easier. _Will it always be like this? Will I always have to lose him, just when..._

A soft moan escaped her as he kissed her once more, devouring her mouth, holding her fast. And his fingers worked their way inside of her, making her sob and shudder...

"Klaus..."

"It's okay," he whispered. "It's okay..."

He set her adrift in the current again, intense in his efforts, almost frantic, and she was falling…

Nothing could ever steal this...nothing could take him away...

Moments passed like hours to the two of them, amaranthine and priceless. She lay down with him, his body close at her back, his face buried in her hair. He cupped her breast, fingers laced with hers, and she closed her eyes, let herself be lost in his touch.

There were no ghosts to haunt them here, no bitter memories and no thoughts of what tomorrow would bring. They had their family and their home. And it was wonderful to be alive.

 


	12. What Endures

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, sexual content

* * *

 

What Endures

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

~ Oscar Wilde

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

~I Corinthians 13:13

"Many are the starrs I see, but in my eyes no starr like thee."

~ English saying used on posey rings

* * *

 

All at once, their peace was shattered by a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking. Violet's eyes shot open. "Klaus…"

She felt a burst of cold air, his body tense beside her. _The doors are open._

They were on their feet in an instant, both of them disoriented and scrambling for their clothes, and Violet didn't know whether she'd grabbed his shirt or her own. _It's_ _all the same, really_ , she reminded herself. Indiscretion would be the least of their worries now.

She glanced apprehensively at her brother, and then at the doorway. The lantern lay in front of them, smashed into pieces, glass shards littering the ground like diamonds.

"Vi, could the wind have done that?"

"I… I don't know." She pressed her hands against the left door, testing the weight. "Are you sure you closed it all the way?"

"I did," he said. "I know I did."

"It's awfully heavy. I don't think the wind is strong enough to- Klaus, wait!" She shouted after him as he ran out into the rain.

He scanned the ground, searching for footprints, for any sign of an intruder. The yard was half submerged, water coursing by him in swift torrents, like a shallow river.

"Can you see anything?" He could barely hear her voice above the roaring in his head.

"No… It's no use, Vi." He stumbled back inside, felt her clutch his arms in a white-knuckled grip. "There's no way to tell."

"But someone might've been here…they might've seen us!"

They looked to each other then, caught in the same terrible thought. _Sunny_.

Heedless of the rain, they raced back to the house, to the room they shared with their little sister. It was dark and quiet…the bed was empty…

"No, oh no..." Violet pulled away the sheets, panic crushing the air out of her lungs, making her dizzy. "She's here. She has to be here!"

They tore the bedclothes off, even on the upper bunk, but Sunny was nowhere to be seen…

"Aww." A familiar sound rang out from the kitchen, startling them. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Good morning. We were just about to call you," Ethie greeted the elder Baudelaires as they clattered in. "Your little sister made our breakfast this morning. She's quite good."

"I cooked bacon and eggs and pancakes." Sunny told them. "It's easy."

They just stared at her, pale and gasping for breath, as if they were in shock.

"What?" She said, indignant. "It wasn't that bad last time."

Violet wanted to seize her into a hug, but now that would only show that they'd been scared half to death. And Sunny would want an explanation. _There's no need to tell her... not yet, anyway._

"It wasn't bad at all." She forced a smile. "I'm sure you've done a fine job. You always do."

She clasped her brother's hand, so hard her fingernails dug into his palm, and he squeezed back.

"We just need to wash up," he said quickly, hauling Violet out of the room with him, and down the hallway.

"To wash up?" She smiled wryly. "Did you happen to notice that we're soaking wet?"

"Hey." He gave her a tired grin. "It got us out of there, didn't it?"

She only sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. And once they were well away from the kitchen, they fell into each other's arms with relief.

* * *

 

Though the day went on without further trouble, Violet couldn't deny the feeling that someone was watching her, just out of sight. She jumped at the smallest sound, her nerves on edge, and, try as she might, she couldn't hide it from Klaus. There were no secrets between them now.

He found reason after reason to stay close by, more than usual, and she loved him for it. His presence calmed her, filled her with a warm sense of belonging. But nothing could erase the chill that had seeped into her mind.

The house was very still after Sunny and Ethie went to sleep. Rain pattered on the roof like the hoof beats of a thousand tiny horses, and they were alone again, sprawled in front of the darkened fireplace.

The thought of going out in the gusting winds and mud and damp was none too appealing to either of them. And the shadows gave them cover, made them bold enough to risk a few hours together in the relative comfort of the house.

She lay on the floor beside him, her head resting on his chest, the blue, woolen blanket draped across her legs. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, up and down her back, and she was melting, languid in the circle of his arms.

He kissed her, softly at first, then deeper, his fingers brushing over her face, winding in her hair…He was so gentle, her brother. She needed him, needed the rush of feelings he kindled inside of her, at once tranquil and exhilarating.

She would never tire of being kissed like this.

But then, without warning, there were brutal hands at her throat, tearing at her hair, trying to-

 _No!_ She tore herself away from him, shut her eyes against the memory. _He wasn't here, he wasn't…._ Gingerly, she touched her neck, as if to reassure herself. Sometimes she could still feel the bruises, the iron clamp of his fingers…

"Vi?" Her brother's voice drew her out of the chasm. "It's him, isn't it?"

 _He knows_. Her heart sank at the thought. _I didn't say a word about it, but he knows_.

She nodded, hugging herself as if she were cold suddenly.

He laid a hand on her arm. "I didn't mean to remind you."

"You didn't. It's not your fault, Klaus." Her voice was small, her eyes downcast. "After this morning...I…I can't help it… I see him."

"Do you really think he was here?"

"I think he always finds us. He always comes back. He won't stop until he's taken everything." She turned to him, burrowed into his arms, as if they might be forced apart at any moment. "I think he'll be back again…for me."

He was breath to breath with his sister, wrapped around her in a close embrace, and he couldn't tell her what he wanted to say- that he would die before he'd let her be taken, that he'd never let her go. _She won't stand for that, she'd rather be the one to…I can't…_

Pain wrenched through him with violent force, so strong he wondered if he'd survive it. _Until he's taken everything..._ "He can't have this." His voice was rough, resounding in the silence. "He can't have you."

They held each other then, for a long time. Whatever may come, they were secure with one another, and in that assurance there was freedom.

"You remember all of it, don't you?" She spoke into his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I do."

"How do you do it, Klaus? How do you live with the memories?"

He pressed a kiss into her neck, the dip in her throat. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. "I don't know…I think it's like the Divine Comedy." She had to smile at that, in spite of herself. "Do you know the story?"

She shook her head slightly. "Give me the short version."

It never ceased to amaze her, the way he came alive when he thought of his books. There was still so much of the boy in him, the fervor he reserved for precious little else. She saw it in his eyes when their baby sister was threatened. _And every time he looks at me…_

"Well," he began. "Dante is the author and the…the hero, I guess. He lost the girl he loved, when she died. Her name was Beatrice."

The words stirred something in the alcoves of her mind, a deep feeling, like an echo from a far off place…She closed her eyes, tucked herself in against him. _It's all too much…_

"He's left wandering in a dark forest," he went on. "But no matter how bad things are, he can look up and see the stars."

She loved his voice, the steady drum of his heart, and she wanted to have him back inside of her, to forget that she'd ever known anything but this.

"Then he meets the ghost of Virgil, the old Roman poet, who brings him a message from Beatrice. She wants him to make a…a journey into the land of the dead. So he goes." His lips grazed her ear, kissing here and there, feeling her jolt at the touch of his mouth. "He goes through Hell and a wall of flames to get to her."

"Klaus…" He'd read the Bible, she knew, just as he read every other book he could get his hands on. _But I didn't think he believed it… We've never had much use for religion._

She peered up at him through dark lashes. "Do you believe in Hell?"

"No," he said. "At least, not in some afterlife… It's metaphor."

She looked at him skeptically.

"No, listen, Vi. I think the stars are supposed to be faith, hope and love. They're what we still have, when nothing else is left." He wore a lopsided grin, lifting the solemn tone of his story. " It means there's always a little light in darkness."

 _We do have a kind of faith_ , she realized. _That everything happens for a reason, that there's always something…_ These ideas were a source of solace, a refuge. _We have faith in each other._

"What about Hell?" Her eyes were troubled.

"It's where I'd be without you."

He said it so simply, so heartbreaking in his intensity. His voice shattered her like fragile glass, pulled her back together again… And she wanted to cry from all she felt, didn't know how she'd ever live if he were gone…

There were tears in her eyes when he kissed her, when his hands framed her face, tilting her head back…"I want the memories, Vi… because you're there." His eyes were soft, darker than she'd ever seen them. "You are my stars."

She skimmed a line down the side of his neck with her fingers, with her lips, and he felt the cool trace of the teardrops on her skin.

"Violet…" He raised her hand, placed a kiss to her palm, the back of her knuckles. "I don't ever want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid," she said. "Not with you."

In a breath, she closed the distance between them, merged with him in a kiss, fierce and tender. And she never meant to stop, wished she could seal herself to him so they might never be separated.

His hands were everywhere on her body then, edging the nightdress down her shoulders, followed by the heat of his mouth…

Beneath the hem of her gown, his palm ran along her slender legs, his fingers searching, sliding in…first one, then another and another…

She hummed a low moan their kiss, sobbing lightly as he made a slow, gentle assault on her senses.

He could feel her clenching, her body breathless under his, all balmy scents and soft cries, and he kissed her, kneaded and caressed her, until he thought he would give up…

He delved into the hollows of her neck, wreathed kisses to her breasts as her fingernails scraped his back. And he drank deeply of her, his movements unhurried, as if they had time enough to spare.

Her hands slipped into the waistband of his pants, moving them away. She felt him gasp against her skin when she found him…

He shut his eyes, let his head fall to her shoulder. And she explored every bit of him, lovingly, teasingly.

She was like velvet, her touch silken in the cool night air, and arousal surged in him as she whimpered, his fingers shifting back and forth…

Then he was there, cradled between her legs, and he sank into her, sheathed himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust. This was where he belonged.

"Love me," he pleaded, drowning in her. "Always love me."

"Always… always… always…" She spoke in a whisper, a promise that possessed him even as she did. And with each faint word, his spirit soared.

She tossed her head as he plunged into her, harder, faster…He felt so good, fit her seamlessly, and she just wanted to keep him, just like this…

They were no longer two orphaned children, no longer brother and sister in the darkness. She was the delicate hands that gripped his shoulders, the sweet, sweet warmth surrounding him. He was the strong arms at her back, the thundering beat inside of her.

The earth seemed to swirl around them, water and wind and silver light... And she hardly felt the interruption, the brief twinge of loss before his fingers took his place, embedded firmly in her body…The ache was nothing, a small price, and she would pay it gladly for this, for him…

When the storm had passed, they came to rest side by side, in each other's arms.

He felt her exhale, the brush of her voice on his neck. "Does he find her, Klaus?"

"Yeah," he said. "She's waiting for him...on the other side of the fire."

It almost hurt, he was holding her so tightly, as if he could draw her into him. But she only huddled closer as he breathed in her ear. "She takes him to Paradise."

She could feel the spark in him, his smile, knew that he wanted her again. And there was no place she would rather be.

* * *

 

A peal of thunder boomed overhead, and Sunny cried. Klaus staggered up immediately, pulling Violet with him. He fixed his clothing and helped her with the nightgown.

They glanced at each other guiltily when they saw their little sister, frightened and alone in the dark bedroom. "It's okay, Sunny." Violet hugged her as Klaus lit the candle on the table. Thunder rattled, louder this time.

"I'm scared, Violet. I hate thunder." Sunny crawled into her lap.

"I know." Violet patted her back gently. "It's alright, we're here." Sunny was a brave girl, always, but she still had nightmares about Hurricane Herman- the ear-splitting roar and the turbulent winds that nearly swept them all away.

 _I don't know how we made it_ , Violet thought. _We could've been killed or injured or trapped in the debris. Maybe we aren't so unlucky after all. It's strange, how time can change your view of things._

She looked up when Klaus said her name. He had retrieved their blanket, and a few extra quilts from the closet.

"Will these work?" His voice was calm, his eyes so deep, unwavering.

She could have kissed him again, then and there. "I think so," she said.

With Violet's help, he used the quilts to form a makeshift tent on the lower bunk, and the three of them curled up together inside.

The rain lashed resoundingly against the house, wan light filtered through the blankets in a soft, colored glow, and the little girl settled in between her brother and sister, feeling warm and sheltered.

She did notice that her siblings seemed unusually at ease. With the unbiased eyes of childhood, she glimpsed their flushed faces, the slight half smiles, and the flicker of emotion between them. Sunny could not guess at the reason, only that while she was sleeping, she had missed something.

The thought departed as quickly as it came, and she drifted off once more. The youngest Baudelaire knew well that her life could transform in the blink of an eye. As long as she had Klaus and Violet, nothing else mattered.

Unwilling to leave Sunny in the house by herself, they brought her with them to the barn that morning. The Baudelaires checked every shadowy nook and cranny, even the hayloft, though it was little more than a crawl space. And only then did they tend to their farm duties.

Sunny did make an effort to help, though at first she was groggy and still partly asleep. "Why'd you bring me?" She wanted to know. "You never bring me in the morning."

Violet sighed, wondering how much she could say without causing undue harm to her sister. "We want you with us," she finally answered. "It's not good for you to be in the house alone."

"What about Ethie? She's in there." Sunny put down the pail she was holding. "I wouldn't be alone."

"She can't hear very well, Sunny. Something could happen down hall from her room, and she might never know."

Klaus brushed against her then, in passing, and they shared a quick look. They were both aware of the truth in that statement- glaringly, exquisitely aware.

"But we've been here a long time!" Sunny stood with her hands on her hips. "Why are you worried now?"

Violet paused, as if to study her little sister. And in that moment, she made a decision. "Look," she said. "Do you see those doors, Sunny?"

The little girl nodded.

"Yesterday, while we were in here… they opened."

Her eyes grew wide. "Who was it?"

"We don't know." Klaus came to join them. "It could've been the wind." And he scooped Sunny up in his arms. "We just want to be cautious. You're the only little sister we've got."

She stared at him with a grave expression, far older than her years. "We're not safe anywhere, are we?"

"No," he admitted. "We're not safe anywhere. But no matter what happens, we'll face it together, you and me and Violet. We'll come through it." He hugged her to him, hoping that would be enough for her. It was all he had to give.

She hugged her brother in return, seemed to accept what he'd said. And then her attention turned to thoughts of breakfast. "When can we go in?"

"We're almost finished," Violet placed a kiss to her forehead. "Would you like to feed Roderick?"

Sunny had warmed to the old farm horse, who was too elderly and frail to carry anyone but her.

"Okay." She ran over to his stall after Klaus set her free.

Violet felt him beside her, his hand at her waist… the barest ghost of a touch…

She reached for it, as if by instinct, pulling his arm around her. "Thank you," she said, her eyes bright with unshed tears as she watched Sunny.

"For what?" He sounded surprised.

"I think you know.

* * *

 

"I finally found it. Behind my bookcase, of all places." Ethie brandished her picture album with an air of triumph.

Violet smiled to herself as she cleared some of the dishes from the table. For weeks now, the older woman would speak of little else.

Ethie flipped through a few pages, before laying it squarely on the table in front of them. Sunny looked at the grainy, black and white photograph. It seemed to show a football team. "Which one is he?"

"There he is," she pointed out one figure in the group. "My son, Gerard. Captain of the team." Her pride in him was plain to see." Do you know that they were undefeated all four years?"

Sunny had gone white, the color draining away from her face. "That's him!"

"What? Who is it?" Violet moved up beside her sister.

"That's him! The man on the trolley! I know it is!" She was bordering on hysterics. "It's him! It's him!"

"I don't think so," Violet tried to quell her outburst, conscious of the way they behaved in front of Ethie. _We can't do this here_. "Didn't you say he joined the army?"

"That's right," Ethie said. "He lives down south now. You must be mistaken, dear."

"I'm _not_ mistaken!" Sunny stamped her foot. "It was him!" She frowned angrily at her brother and sister. "Nobody listens to children, and you're not listening to me!"

"Hey," Klaus got up from his chair. "It's not raining anymore. Why don't we go outside for awhile?"

"I don't want to," she sniffed.

"Come on," he said, encouraging. "I'll show you how to tell if another storm is coming."

"You should go out." Violet touched her arm gently. And then she leaned in closer. "We'll talk later, I promise."

Halfheartedly, the little girl allowed him to take her hand. "You promised," she said as they left the room.

He glanced back at her, and Violet flashed him a grateful look, uncertainty prickling at the corners of her mind.

Ethie seemed oblivious to their silent exchange, still focused on the picture of her son. "He's marvelous, don't you think?"

"Oh…yes," she smiled distractedly. "Yes, he is."

But her eyes weren't on the photograph.

 


	13. In the Field

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, sexual content

* * *

 

In the Field

 

In our times of trouble, we only had ourselves

Nobody else

No one there to save us, we had to save ourselves

And when the storms came through, they found me and you

Back to back together

And when the sun would shine, it was yours and mine

Yours and mine forever

~ "Oh How the Years Go By"

* * *

 

"It was him. I know it was." Sunny walked alongside her brother as they neared the edge of the farmyard, just where the fields began. "I saw him."

"Memory can play tricks on us, Sunny. We have to be sure before we go accusing him." He grabbed her hand, to help her jump across a puddle. "There's no way anyone will believe us, unless we have evidence." _And maybe not even then,_ he thought grimly.

His little sister couldn't stop thinking about the photograph. "You're not listening," she insisted. "He was on the trolley."

"Sunny…" He sighed. She was so distressed, completely unmanageable, and he'd been trying to sort things out with her for the better part of an hour. From what he could tell, she'd only caught a glimpse of a man who _seemed_ to be watching them- a man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Ethie's son...

Was it enough to make them leave? _Especially now, when we're close to…to Violet's eighteenth…_ He could scarcely picture that day. For years, it had been too much to hope for, too dangerous and distant to think on. _Do we have to run again?_ He felt so tired at the thought.

From across the yard, he could see her on the front porch of the farmhouse, closing the screen door behind her. _She finally got away._

Violet scooped Sunny up in a hug when she reached them. "I'm sorry, Sunny, but we couldn't talk in there. Ethie doesn't know who we really are, remember?"

"But it was _him_!" She sounded as if she would burst into tears.

"Either Gerard was on the trolley, or he wasn't," Violet reasoned, more to herself than to either of her siblings. _If it wasn't him, then what?_ She'd never known her sister to be a liar. Sunny was honest, through and through. _She wouldn't lie about something like that_ … _she has no reason to lie…_ "You only saw that man for a few seconds, Sunny. How can you be sure?"

"I notice lots of things. You always say I do. I was watching people and he was there. He was watching _us_!" She looked to Klaus. "You said I shouldn't stare at him."

"Sunny, even if you did see him on the trolley, it doesn't mean that he was following us."

"That would be a _coincidence,_ " she returned, with a smirk.

He blinked, taken aback, as if he hadn't actually heard himself. And he shared a glance with Violet. "You know, you're right," he said. "We don't believe in coincidences, do we?"

"No!" Sunny shook her head vehemently. "We don't." If nothing else, he'd taught her that.

"And you didn't see his picture somewhere before?"

"I didn't!"

Violet let the little girl down, out of her arms. "I believe you," she said, helping Sunny to straighten her coat. "We can't afford not to believe her, Klaus." _We can't be like the adults we've known, who never listened…_

"Okay." She heard him draw a deep breath, in the way that told her he was thinking. "So he was in the same city with us, on the same street… the same trolley, even…and he was watching us. And now, here we are, miles away at his mother's house. It's too convenient. All this time, we thought we were hiding here..." He locked eyes with Violet then. "Maybe we were wrong."

"Klaus, if we're going to be wrong, one way or the other, we can't take any chances. We have to leave."

"No..." Sunny tugged at her sleeve. "What about Ethie?"

"If her son is working with them _,_ she might be too," Klaus told her.

"She wouldn't! She's not like that." Sunny hid her face against Violet's side. "I don't want to go."

"I know." Violet touched her hair gently. _It never gets any easier, no matter how many times we do it._ "She might be in danger because of us, Sunny. She'll be safer when we're gone."

"I still don't want to go," the little voice came softly. "We always have to say goodbye."

They had no words, nothing to give her comfort.

Violet held her sister close, hoping that her own mere presence could take some of the hurt away. _So many ifs, so much uncertainty…_ She sighed deeply, and she reached out for Klaus, pulled him in against her.

He kissed her forehead, let her nestle in the crook of his shoulder. And for a moment, they all drew strength from one another, eyes closed, as if they could will the world to disappear.

"We'll be together," she said. "We'll be alright."

Sunny heard her sister's voice, felt her brother's arms around the both of them, and she believed it. She'd never have to say goodbye, not to her family. They would never be apart...

How many times had people called her an unfortunate child, an orphan? It didn't matter what they said; they were wrong. Orphans were alone, with no one to care for them. And she knew the truth, even if they didn't. _I am not alone._

She had Violet and Klaus, and so she had everything. They would never hurt her deliberately; they would fight to keep her with them, to protect her. That was love, plain and simple. But, between the two of them, it was different somehow…

She studied them closely, her eyes taking in more than the scene before her.

They'd been acting strange for a while now…stolen glances when they thought she wasn't paying attention, whispered conversations in the dark, just out of earshot…

A sea of calm surrounded them when they were together, as if nothing could touch them or make them afraid. It enveloped her too, made her feel brave, and safe, and wanted. And, all at once, she realized what it meant… "You love each other, don't you?"

Her brother and sister stood up straight, shot a quick look at one another, and if Sunny had caught them in a compromising position they could not have been more stunned.

Violet recovered then, managed a soft smile. "Of course we do," she said. "And we love you."

Sunny blinked. "I know. But you _love_ -love each other. Like Mom and Dad."

"Well, I…" She felt a catch in her throat, found that she could hardly speak.

And then Klaus was there beside her, gripping her hand, and it was obvious to the both of them: there could be no escape now.

 _We taught her to be observant._ He swallowed hard. _There's nothing for it. She already knows..._ "Yeah," he finally admitted. "We do."

"I knew it!" Sunny beamed, entirely pleased with herself. "I knew it, I knew it!" She threw her arms around Violet. "Now I know we'll never say goodbye."

Violet hugged the little girl, and her eyes drifted to her brother. He felt it too- the heady lightness, like a black cloud lifting from them, a weight falling away…

Sunny had learned their secret, and she didn't mind at all. In fact, she seemed elated. It was more than they could've asked for.

He gave her a lopsided grin, not so different from the first time she'd bound her hair up in the Count's drafty attic. The years left him then, and she remembered just how young he really was… a few months shy of seventeen… _How young we both are…and after this week, we'll have our inheritance…_ She felt an unfamiliar, restless anxiety, a tangle of nerves and butterflies, almost as if she were a little girl herself.

What would they do with the life ahead of them? She shook her head, shelved the question, to be dealt with later. It was too foreign- to hope for the future. All they truly had was here and now…

The thought struck them at the same time. She saw it in his face, as he could see it in hers, and she wanted to hold him close, to hold him and hold him…

"We'll be like a _real_ family. You won't go away." Sunny's voice intervened, breaking the spell.

Violet pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "No one's going away," she said. "But you can't ever tell anyone, Sunny. I'm sorry."

"I'm not sorry," Sunny pressed closer to her. "I thought you would leave. You would get married to someone and leave."

A shadow came over her then, a twinge of warning in the back of her mind. "Why would you ever think that?"

"Ethie says you'll want to get married soon, when you're eighteen. She says you should meet her son. But he's bad and she doesn't even see!"

Klaus looked at her sharply, felt a tightening in his chest. "Violet…"

Her palm was cool against his face, and she tried to smile, to reassure him. But it didn't reach her eyes.

He could read every angle of her, the old terrors that still disrupted her sleep, the veiled places no one else would ever find. And he wanted to see the thrill in her eyes again, the softness and light, to make her forget…

A loud, rustling sound diverted their attention and Sunny lifted her head. "What was that?"

A flock of sparrows rushed past them suddenly, a flurry of brown and gray feathers, gliding near to the ground.

Sunny was laughing, enamored with the tiny birds.

"Hey, come back!" she called, running after them. But they flew off, into the fields, as quickly as they'd come.

Klaus turned to watch her, caught a brief glimpse of the horizon. "We'll probably have another storm tonight," he said.

A beat passed, and he felt Violet next to him, her hand sliding into his. "How do you know?"

"The birds. They do that when it's going to rain."

He drew her to him, took her in his arms, as if she might vanish just as suddenly. She leaned into his chest, the rhythm of a life she knew better than her own.

"We've been here for months, Vi. A few more nights won't make a difference, will they?"

"I don't think so," she said.

* * *

 

Sunny begged to be taken on one last ride with Roderick, and though her brother and sister didn't want to venture too far, they relented, glad of an opportunity to be away from the house.

Violet placed their blanket under Sunny as a makeshift saddle, and they set out into the field.

Klaus held the horse's bridle reins, hand-in-hand with her. The air was crisp and clean, a whisper of sunlight flowing through the clouds, and everything was lush and green and brimming with life. He'd never cared much for the outdoors, but now he wished that they could keep going, on and on until they reached that distant horizon. And he wouldn't have to think of losing Violet to someone else...wouldn't have to remember the things she was giving up for him…

* * *

 

"I wish he could go fast."

"Sunny, you know he can't," Violet smiled back at her. "He's too old. We have to be gentle with him."

"I know," she said. "But I wish he could."

They were nearly a mile from the farm, with Sunny on the horse's back, when Klaus began to notice that his pace was flagging. "Sunny, I think he's tired. Why don't you get down for a while?"

She agreed, allowed him to help her dismount, and it wasn't long before they all stopped to rest.

Klaus had taken out his spyglass, and he briefly surveyed their surroundings. There was no sign of anyone but the three of them. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Sunny helped them spread the blanket on the grass before she bounded off to gather flowers for a daisy chain, half-listening as Violet cautioned her to stay in sight and to watch out for bees.

Roderick stood off to one side, grazing quietly, and he was so docile that they never tied him. It would be a shame, Violet thought, when he so seldom came out of the barn.

She lowered herself onto the blanket, touched her brother's arm as she sat down beside him. He was rigid, his shoulders set, and she couldn't bear the ache in his eyes…those deep eyes that knew her so well, and adored her effortlessly. He would walk through fire for her. _Does he think my love is less, that I would ever…_

"Klaus, you know I don't want anything to do with him. Even without our suspicions, I couldn't…"

"You could," he said. "You could make a normal life with someone else. You could have a wedding… and children." A flash of pain crossed his face. "You wouldn't have to be a Baudelaire anymore, Vi. You'd be free of all this."

"Klaus…" She found his hand, fingers clasping his. "Is that what you think I want? A fairytale? A walk down the aisle in a white dress?"

He felt a lump forming in his throat. "Most girls think about those things, don't they?"

"I don't," she told him. "I prefer not to. And as for children…well…" As if by instinct, she stared out into the field, to Sunny. "I love them. That's why I don't want any of my own."

Guilt twisted like a knife in his stomach. "Are you sure?" _She's only saying that because we…because of me…_

Her eyes were sad, wistful, and he could feel the fear in her, the resolve stronger than steel. "With Sunny, we don't have a choice," she said. "She goes with us, and she has to face the dangers we face. But how selfish would I be, to bring another little life into this? Another hostage they could use against us. Imagine how awful it would be if…" She shook her head. "No children… not ever. I couldn't protect them." And she turned to him with a soft look. "It's no sacrifice, Klaus. Not for me. I've already been through a… a wedding, you know." He felt her shudder, and she averted her eyes. "I won't be sorry if I never see another wedding dress again."

He cursed himself silently. _Why didn't I think of that? It would only make her think of…him…_

"Vi, I'm sorry, I-"

"Shh…" She hushed him with a kiss, like slow, simmering water, and he felt the crush of her body in his arms, the taste of her breath. For an instant, he worried that Sunny would see them, before he recalled that she already knew…she knew, and all was well…

"It's alright. None of it matters now." Her voice was mellifluous, serene and warm as the sun on his back.

He wanted to remember this, to remember her just as she was in that moment, her beautiful courage, the touch of her hands in his hair, the sweet, slender grace of her…

More than once, he'd heard grown men talk of being "chained" to one woman, as though it meant the death of their freedom, a shift into a dismal, lifelong prison. "You'll find out one day," they'd predicted. "Just you wait."

But he hadn't really believed them, and he knew now that he never would.

Each time with her was better than the last, left him sated and overwhelmed and aching for more. She was the calm in the eye in the storm, his stillness and rest, and the wild stirring in his blood.

He lived and breathed through her, through his sister, and he couldn't be without her, couldn't dream of wanting anyone else…

"I wish I could marry you, Violet." He scarcely realized that he'd spoken aloud.

She laughed softly, ran her hand down the side of his neck. "So do I," her nose brushed against his. "But you know we can't, Klaus… at least, not officially. I don't care about any of that." A sudden idea occurred to her, collided with her like a tidal wave, and she wondered how she'd overlooked it before.

"Klaus, they're still searching for us. They must be, or they would've come by now. _He_ would be here, in one of his disguises."

"Yeah," he said, unsure of where she was going.

"They're all looking for the Baudelaires… a brother and two sisters. What if we became something else? Something they wouldn't expect?"

"You mean, we'll live as if we...we aren't brother and sister. And Sunny…" The full implications dawned on him. "It's brilliant, Vi. Anyone looking for us would be thrown off the trail."

His hand traced the small of her back, wide eyes meeting hers. "We could be together openly, without any trouble. We could make a real home."

"It's not perfect," she said. "We'd still have a secret. No one can ever know that we're brother and sister, but this…" She blushed slightly. "…We wouldn't have to hide this. We wouldn't have to be the Baudelaires anymore."

He kissed her then, with such heart-stopping need that she thought she would collapse, and she clung to him, let his arms enfold her, until it seemed they were one beat, one form…

Through the haze, he heard someone running toward them, small footsteps rustling the grass. It could only be Sunny.

 _Not now,_ he thought ruefully, pulling back from Violet. _Definitely not now._

Sure enough, a moment later Sunny dropped into the blanket, with a daisy circlet on her head and an armful of flowers. "Well?" She looked to them expectantly. "What do you think?"

"It's…it's lovely," Violet indulged her. "Did you make one for me?"

"Yeah." She offered a wreath to Violet, who couldn't help noting her resemblance to their brother.

"For everyone. Even Roderick." She glanced around then. "Hey, where is he?"

Klaus followed her gaze, equally perplexed, and he checked the area again with his spyglass. "He's never wandered off before."

The field remained peaceful and undisturbed, but the horse was nowhere in sight.

 


	14. Beneath the Surface

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, sexual content, suggested violence/murder

* * *

 

Beneath the Surface

“I have, indeed, no abhorrence of danger, except in its absolute effect – in terror.”

~ Edgar Allen Poe

* * *

 

"I thought he couldn't go fast." Sunny looked to her brother and sister in consternation. "Why'd he run away?"

"I don't know, Sunny." Klaus returned the spyglass to his pocket, and he took Violet's hand, pulled her to her feet.

"He can't be far," she said. "Klaus, do you think we can track him?"

For a moment he didn't answer, seemed to be lost in thought. "I read a few books on field tracking, once," he said. "They were all about finding people, but a horse weighs more. It should be easier…" He moved away from them, strode over to the spot where they'd last seen Roderick, and he knelt to the ground. "There's bound to be something here."

And then, even as he spoke, he found what he was looking for…hoof-sized depressions in the soil, crushed and broken blades of grass… The roots were damp, like the stalks that still stood tall in the surrounding meadow. _He hasn't been gone very long, or these would be dry from the sun. No shortage of fodder for him… Why wouldn't he stay here?_

He looked back over his shoulder, for his sisters. Though he was half-ashamed to admit it, he hated to let them out of his sight, even for an instant. A quote from Tagore flickered in his mind.

" _Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom."_

He sighed. _Would Tagore understand, after all we've been through?_ Violet stood just behind him, she and Sunny shaking the grass from the blanket, folding it up. _If she didn't want me, that'd be different,_ he thought to himself. _If she asked me to go… I would…_

She cast a glance in his direction, a smile in her eyes, and he felt his love for her warm him, the echo of her voice in his head. _Always, always, always…_

"Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, I think so." He stood, ignoring the dirt that stained his trousers. "It looks like we're in for another walk."

* * *

 

They had little trouble following Roderick. He'd left a muddy path in the damp earth, and where rough terrain obscured his tracks, it only took Klaus a few minutes to find them again.

The trail led them out of the fields, through a rocky, shallow, river, and into a wooded area, beyond the open place where they'd stopped to rest. Sunny was walking ahead, watching her steps to avoid trampling on any evidence, when she saw a distinct depression in a patch of mud.

She ran over to it, hoping to see another hoof print, but then she noticed something else…a series of wooden planks, partly exposed under the soil, almost like a trap door. "Hey look! There are boards over here!"

Klaus and Violet came up then, just in time to hear a sickening crack, to see the ground give way under their sister…

"Sunny!"

She barely had a chance to scream. In split second, she'd disappeared, a deep, cavernous hole in the earth where she'd been standing… They fell beside it in a panic, calling to her.

There was nothing…only splintered boards, a muddy incline tapering into darkness.

Violet could hear muffled crying, a splashing sound somewhere below. "Hold on, Sunny!"

She was about to slide down the embankment when she felt the grip of a hand on her shoulder. "I'll do it."

"No," she said, exasperated. "I'm lighter than you are. I'm going, Klaus."

She left him then, and he kept his eyes fixed on her retreating form, until he couldn't see her anymore. "Violet!"

"I'm alright." The words echoed in the cavern, a chorus of voices all around her. She splashed into a shallow pool at the bottom, water soaking the hem of her skirts, weighing her down. "Sunny! Where are you?" It was so dark...

"Klaus, can you move some of those boards away? I need more light."

 _She can't see…_ He'd read about this, about caves in the ground, with deep fissures, bottomless pits that led to nowhere…

"Vi, there could be a crevice down there! Don't move! "

 _If we had a lantern…_ He examined the planks. They were poorly cobbled together, with spaces between the slats, now filled with mud. "I've got it," he said. "Watch out."

He managed to break off a few large pieces of the wood, carefully, so as not to send a hail of dirt crashing down on his sisters.

Faint light filtered in through the gaps he'd made, like pale gashes on the stone walls. It was eerie, Violet thought, almost like a prison cell. _Or worse…a dungeon. I have to find her._

"Violet, Violet!"

Relief flooded through her when she saw her little sister, huddled against an outcropping of rock.

"Are you hurt?" Violet ran to her, forgetting the danger.

"No," she sniffed. "I'm cold."

Gently, Violet checked her over, looking for injuries. She seemed unharmed, apart from a few scrapes and bruises, although she was drenched to the skin. "Oh Sunny," Violet picked her up, held her in a hug. "I was so worried."

She took in their surroundings then, the wooden planks above them. It seemed to be a kind of dugout, smaller than Curdled Cave. _Someone had to build that "roof." We must be nearly ten feet below ground._ _Not right for a mine- it would have support beams…What is this place?_

"Vi? What's happening? " Her brother's voice broke into her thoughts.

"I found her. We're alright, Klaus." she said. "I don't think there's a crevice in here, or the water would've drained away." She smiled at Sunny then. "Now we just have to get out."

To her left, the floor sloped upward, leading to a strip of dry ground, the mouth of a tunnel. She made her way over to it, set her sister down for a moment. "Don't go anywhere, Sunny."

"Okay," the little girl nodded, shivering. She didn't have to be told twice.

Violet examined the walls, the ceiling, all wood and gray rock, dirt and dark water _…_ She nearly tripped as her foot brushed up against something... It was a chain, coiled in a pile, heavy links trailing down into the large puddle she'd been standing in. _Must be deeper than I thought..._

"Vi, there's nothing up here. I could climb a tree, break off a branch."

"No, Klaus," she said. "You don't have to. I think I've found something."

She began to pull in the chain, one link after another. It was well-made, she noted, barely rusted at all. _I just need to see how long this is…_

Just then, she felt weight on the end of it, caught a glimpse of something pale in the water…

She let out a scream, dropped the chain at her feet. It wasn't…It couldn't be what she thought…

"Violet! I'm coming down!"

"No…no, we're fine." She could feel her heart racing. "You have to stay up there, Klaus."

Sunny tugged at her skirt. "What is it?"

"Don't look," Violet tried to turn her away, toward the wall. "Cover your eyes."

"But I want to see."

"Go over there, Sunny, please," She steered her sister back to the tunnel entrance. "I have to get the chain free."

A wave of nausea threatened to overcome her. _Maybe I'm wrong, maybe it isn't…_ But there, in the water, she could see it…a pair of skeletal hands, shackled to the heavy chain. It was too awful.

She wanted to cry, to scream again, to run, but she forced herself to breathe, keeping her composure. _We need to get out of here. If that means I have to..._.

Gingerly, she pulled in the rest of the chain, still attached to that gruesome sight in the water. _We can't use it like this._ There was no other way to remove the body, to free the chain. She would have to break the hands off at the wrists…

Violet shut her eyes, as if she could deny the horror of it. This wasn't happening, none of it was happening… _Whoever you are, I'm sorry..._ She peered into the water then, squinting in the dim light, to see under the surface, and she couldn't breathe. Not one, not only one… _There are two,_ she thought she would be sick. _Two of them._

She backed away, against the wall, and then she slid to the ground.

Sunny came to sit with her, leaned against her side.

Violet didn't say a word, just held her close.

The little girl looked into her face. "Violet, can we go now?"

"Yes," her voice was soft, barely audible. "We'll go now."

"Hey, what's that?" Sunny pointed to a small object on the floor. "Look," she picked it up, handed it to her sister. "What is it?"

"Let me see," Her vision blurred, painful as she tried to focus, and she realized that she'd been crying. "I think it's a bracelet, Sunny, but I don't… I can't be sure." It was covered with rust, tarnished almost beyond recognition. She slipped it into her pocket. _Maybe we can find out who they were, and who…who did this to them._

"Vi!" She started when Klaus called to her again. "Vi, I've got a branch." He held it down, through the opening. "Can you reach it?"

Violet closed her eyes again. She couldn't go back into that water…she couldn't… _Yes, I can,_ she told herself. _I have to._

Steeling herself, she splashed in again, moved to where she could see him. She glanced from the branch to the iron chain links behind her, a plan forming in her mind. "Klaus, wait a moment. I have an idea."

* * *

 

It didn't take long to put her strategy into practice. She knotted the chain to the tree limb, so that Klaus could haul it above ground. He looped the chain around a nearby tree, inserting the branch through the links to form an anchor. Violet thought it would be secure enough, but he wasn't sure. "Vi, what if I didn't do it the right way?"

"We'll be fine, really," she said. "We only need it to hold for a few minutes."

She looked to him then, and he couldn't move, couldn't think of anything but her green, green eyes, her faith in him… _This has to work…_

Violet sent their little sister up first, and she then she followed, held onto the chain as Klaus pulled her out.

She threw her arms around him, and he didn't care about her mud-spattered clothes, the dirt and dust in her hair. He had her back, had his sisters again.

"Vi, are you alright?"

After a moment, she found her voice. "I'm not hurt…we're not hurt, Klaus." She shifted then, raised her eyes to his. "We can't wait. We have to get out of here."

His fear was palpable, plain as the slight touch of daylight on the trees. "What happened in there?"

And, before she could answer, he knew…he'd seen that haunted look too many times. She was no stranger to death. _None of us are._ But he could feel her shaking, her skin like ice, and it wasn't only from the damp, cold air of the cavern.

"Klaus, we can't just stand here talking. We still have to find Roderick."

As if on cue, there was a loud, clomping sound, and Sunny squealed when she saw him. "There he is!"

The horse ambled over to them, as if it were all a matter of course. As if he'd never even left.

Klaus held the reigns as Violet examined a small scrape on Roderick's leg. It was minor enough. "I'll take care of it when we go back," she said.

For the first time, he realized that they were all covered in mud… Ethie would ask more than a few questions about where they'd been. "Vi, look at us. We'll have a lot of explaining to do."

"No, we won't," she told him. "Not if we clean up first."

* * *

 

Sunny fell asleep on the riverbank, curled up on the blanket, her wet hair drying in the sun. Somehow, her white petticoats remained spotless. _All but the hems._ Violet laid their brother's jacket over her. _How did she manage that?_

She looked down at her own white chemise, splotched and stained from their adventure in the cavern.

Most of their clothing had been strewn out in the bushes to dry. And Roderick was waiting nearby, his reigns tied to a tree. _We still don't know why he left…_

"Vi." She felt Klaus' hand on her shoulder, his palm against her skin, and she jerked away, startled.

"Klaus, don't do that." She spoke in a harsh whisper. "You scared me half to death."

The word was like a dark cloud, heavy in the air between them, and she felt a rush of guilt when she saw his face.

"Klaus..."

He was holding her, keeping her fast against him, and she was suddenly aware that he'd discarded his shirt. "You're so strong, Vi. You don't always have to be so strong."

"Yes, I do," she said. "I have to be strong."

A gulp caught in his throat as he looked at her…as if he could read her memories, see through her eyes… "How many? How many were there?"

"Two," her voice shook slightly as she answered him. "Two people…nothing left but their bones. They were chained in that cave, Klaus. They must've been alive when…" She closed her eyes. "There's terrible evil in the world."

His lips grazed her collarbone, followed the line of her pulse in soft, sweeping patterns, and she clutched at his hair. How fragile this life was...how quickly it could be taken from them. But he was here with her, his hands, his voice, all strength and desire and certainty. And she loved him. God, how she loved him… like air and sunlight...like the only home she'd ever know…

They slipped into the river again, behind a jutting rock on the border of the riverbank. Slowly, carefully, he pressed her back against the hard stone surface, the water half covering both of them. Her chemise clung to her like a second skin, all but transparent, and he cupped her breasts, felt the tender warmth of her body in his hands.

She was ambrosia to him, and he kissed her neck, her bare shoulders, every slight arch and corner, feeling her shiver. He wanted this to last, to sink into her soul, the heat and scent of her, till not even the air could pass between them…

"Mmmm," she sighed. "You're good at this, you know."

The sound of her voice nearly sent him over the edge, but he managed a wry smile. "I don't know…I think I could use more practice."

"Practice?" She laughed then, and his heart turned over. "When do we come to the real thing?"

He brought her closer, heard her sigh as buried his face in the curve of her breasts. He needed to feel the life in her, the rise and fall of her lungs as she drew breath.

Their time together was a gift, one he would never take for granted. He held her fiercely, her arms curled about his head, as if she meant to protect him. "This is real," he said. "Sometimes, I think it's the only thing that's real."

His hand slid along her side, warmed her in the cool water, his voice a tremor on her skin. He was so dear, the only man who would ever have all of her. And though the river coursed around them, she knew this, knew the texture of his hands, the lingering caress of his mouth…

He loved to watch her face, to see her throw her head back and close her eyes, a blend of awe and comfort in the pure release his hands seemed able to give her.

She murmured his name like a mantra, soft gasps against his forehead as he touched her, as his fingers pushed inside…just where they should be…

Her mouth was alluring, warm against his, and he kissed her as if she would be lost to him, as if he’d never be able to kiss her again.

Never again would it be this way, never with anyone else… His arms shielded her from the cold stone as they settled, hips pressed together in the swift-moving current.

This was the part she loved most; she felt safest here, so perfectly content.

He shut his eyes, breathing hard, his forehead against hers. It was bliss like he couldn't describe, to be with her like this… her legs locked tight around him, taking him so deep...

They were twin halves of a circle, breaths and limbs and thoughts intermingled in the slow, steady motion of their bodies, beautifully synchronized.

And it seemed they had never been hurt, had never known misery and suffering and loss. This was their first and last, their all, raw fervor laid bare in the gentle bonding of souls, the rhyme of skin against skin.

They'd already shared a lifetime, a hundred lives in one, and Violet knew that she would stay with him, would want him for a hundred more, forever and ever without stopping.

Their love would hold them up, would grow and change and begin over and over…It would be with her always, as he would. And she could face the grime, the ugliness and death, could endure anything, so long as he was there...

* * *

 

Nearly an hour later, after they'd dressed again, Violet felt the weight of the small bracelet in her pocket.

"Klaus, I need to show you something." She opened her hand to reveal it. "She was wearing this."

"How do you know it was a 'she'?"

"Just think," she said. "How many men wear bracelets, Klaus? Not out here."

She turned it over then.

"It might be a charm bracelet. Do you see? I think that's a horseshoe." She pointed to a small piece dangling from the circlet. "And this could be a dog, or…"

"A horse," he finished for her.

They looked to each other then, as if they'd just been shocked awake. And, as one, they turned to glance at Roderick.

 


	15. Together

Disclaimer: standard

Warning: incest, implied violence

* * *

 

Together

"Do you know what friendship is…it is to be brother and sister; two souls which touch without mingling, two fingers on one hand."

~ Victor Hugo, _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_

She was just a baby.

Seems so long ago.

Left a little crazy.

Seems so long ago.

No one in that big, old house heard the baby cry.

Hide your guilt in ignorance. No one has to lie.

~ "Crack in the Mirror"

* * *

 

"Vi, we have to go back." His hands gripped her shoulders, as if he meant to keep her upright. "We have to go back to the cave."

"No!" She shook her head, tears stinging in her eyes. "I won't take Sunny in there again."

"You don't have to," he said. "I'll go in."

"By yourself?" She stared at him, incredulous. "It isn't safe, Klaus. There might be fissures in the tunnel… you know that better than I do… And those people…"

He felt a knot in his stomach, a sharp pang of regret. He hated to see her cry, to ask her to go back... _But we may be the only ones who know about this place, besides the…the killer…_

"Klaus, please, let's go to the house. We'll call the police…we'll tell them what we've found… Please."

"They won't listen to us, Vi. We need solid proof…something more than this." Gently, he closed her fingers around the bracelet, covered her hand with his. "We need to know what else is in there." His voice dropped lower then. "Someone got away with murder. They might still be around here."

"I know," she told him. "That's why I took the bracelet. I want to help… But not if it means losing you."

She reached for him and he pulled her into a hug, so hard that he nearly lifted her from the ground. "You won't lose me," he said. "I promise. I'll be careful."

With a sigh, she shut her eyes, let him hold her. He never would be satisfied until he'd found an answer. _When he commits himself to something, that's the end of it. He won't be swayed…_

And really, she couldn't fault him for that. It was one of the things she loved about him…his tireless devotion to her, and to Sunny. _He'd risk his life to keep us together…_ _He already has._ And when he looked at her, she knew that he’d do it all over again.

"You can't go in without a light, Klaus." She spoke into the nape of his neck. "You can't go alone."

"You did…You went down there without a second thought."

"That's different," she said. "I had to get Sunny." She searched his face then, saw the same anguish, the same desperate fear that gathered like ice in her heart. _I left him behind…_

"Do you know what I'd do if I lost you both? Do you know?" He glanced to the side, where their little sister was feeding a handful of grass to Roderick. "I couldn't live, Vi. I can't be the last one left. If you have to face something awful, I want to be with you… Even if it means… the worst…" His eyes found hers again, with an intensity that made her heart skip. "I'd rather be with you."

"Klaus, you pulled us out of there." Her fingers glanced over the crease in his forehead, the worry lines that made him seem older than his years. "If you had come with me, we might all be trapped."

He took her hand in his, pressed a kiss to her wrist. "I know," he said. "But I- "

"You could live without me, Klaus," She lifted her chin, fixed him with a steady gaze. "You know you could."

"I can't," his voice was firm, unyielding as his hold on her. "I don't want to try."

"Don't ask us to do it, then… Don't ask us to live without you." Her hands fisted in his shirt, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and suddenly, he understood.

Violet and Sunny would be shattered without him… He ought to value his own life, just as he cared for them… _because_ he cared for them…

 _We'll do what we can, but those people in the cave are dead…no one can hurt them now._ He sighed. Beyond all that, beyond any mysteries, his first concern had to be the living, his family… _I can't help anyone if I'm dead…It's not worth the risk…_

"You're right," he said. "I'm not going."

She gave him a soft smile then, held onto him as he stole her breath in a kiss.

He'd taught himself to think scientifically, learned to form whole pictures out of fragments, to derive conclusions from evidence. But there were things that science couldn't explain.

When she kissed him, when he felt their bodies entwining, he never doubted that he had a soul. He could feel her spirit even now, in her strength, in her eyes.

He would protect it, as she guarded his…a sacred trust.

His arm fell around her waist, his hand at the back of her neck as she laid her head on his shoulder. "We're too much alike, Vi." The words were muffled in her hair. "We'll never be able to let each other go."

"Is that such a bad thing?" He could hear the trace of a smile in her voice.

He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath. They couldn't ignore the truth, the ever-present threat that shadowed their footsteps. "Sooner or later, one of us will have to live without the other."

"Maybe not," her voice was strained, a whisper in his ear. "Maybe we'll go together, a long time from now, when Sunny's grown… I couldn't ask for more than that."

He let his head rest against hers, half-aware that Sunny was observing them. His little sister…so bright and undeniably precocious. And Violet…It would be worse than death to leave her, to know that he'd never see her soft eyes again, never feel her heartbeat, her breath against his neck. "I'd follow you anywhere.” She heard the grin in his voice. “Anywhere at all."

Love swept over her, soft and perfect… that he could ease the apprehension, without denying it… make her feel so light at a time like this…

She felt the color rising to her face, the familiar heat. "Then follow me back to the house," she said. "Let's get away from here."

* * *

 

They'd nearly reached the farmhouse when they noticed the dark clouds beginning to gather.

Klaus carried his little sister on his back, and he winced when she let out a shriek.

"Not so loud, Sunny. You'll break my eardrums."

"Sorry…" she giggled. "There was a raindrop on my head."

He turned to Violet, who was leading the horse along behind them. "We made it just in time."

"You were right." She glanced at the sky. "We're going to have another storm." And she thought of the bracelet again. "What'll we do, Klaus? Should we tell Ethie?"

He didn't have to guess at her meaning. "She might know about them already. You said she had a daughter who disappeared, with some guy. What if her daughter didn't really run away?   What if-"

"Don't say it," she interrupted him. "You don't have to say it."

"You're thinking it too," he said. "I know you are. There are too many coincidences, Vi. Gerard has to be involved in all this somehow."

He heard her sigh. "Klaus, if they're dead, and he was the one who…" She closed her eyes, tried to push aside the image, the cold, muddy gloom of the cavern… "There might be other victims. He had more than a few… girlfriends…but they never stayed for long. They left town unexpectedly. Or at least, that's what Ethie said." She felt Klaus come up alongside her then. "I don't think they left at all."

"We should go to the authorities first. They can handle it."

"And what if they won't believe us, Klaus? What if they won't listen? This is her home. I think she has a right to know." She patted the horse's side. "She's been good to us. I wish we didn't have to leave her alone out here."

"Vi, what are you saying?" He looked to her in disbelief. "It was your idea to go now."

"I know…But I don't like it. What if something happens to her? Something we could've prevented, if we'd only-"

"Okay," he said, adjusting Sunny's weight. "We could call the police first, and then tell her. We'll make sure that she gets the message. And if she is mixed up in this…the police will be on their way."

Violet nodded. "I'll be the one to do it…to tell her."

"We can do it together."

She managed a smile then, grateful to have him there.

"It's raining." Sunny broke in. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

* * *

 

After they tended to Roderick's leg, the three of them returned to the house. Sunny walked in between her brother and sister, clasped their outstretched hands, and they all paused for a moment before going in. If the farm had seemed relatively warm and inviting before, it represented something different now- another test of their endurance, their skills, and their loyalty to one another. In the span of a few hours, everything had changed.

Violet's eyes settled on her brother and sister, and she had never loved either of them more. "We'll make this work," she said. "There's nothing we can't do."

And, with that, they crossed the threshold.

"Well, well. You're finally back, I see." Ethie met them in the kitchen doorway. "Goodness knows, you had me worried. I thought you'd lose your way in the rain."

"We nearly did," Violet tried to smile, to hide her misgivings. "I'm afraid we lost track of the time. We didn't mean to worry you."

Ethie didn't seem to hear her. "Look who's here! It's a wonderful surprise," she said cheerily, and she stepped aside, to reveal a dark-clothed figure at the kitchen table. A man. "My son, Gerard," she said proudly. "But, of course, you all remember." And she turned her attention to him. "I'm sure they feel as if they know you already."

Klaus felt his stomach drop, felt Violet clutch at his arm. And he knew, in an instant, that their plan would come to nothing. _It's him…_

He caught her eye, for a mere hint of a second, and the same cold thought passed between them. _What'll we do now?_

Sunny barely spoke a word as she helped her brother and sister with the dinner preparations. She was quiet and withdrawn, drained of all her energy, and Violet knew that the day had been particularly difficult for her. _Especially now, with him in the house._

She finally put the little girl to bed.

"I have to go back out there, Sunny. " Violet took the room key from its place in the door lock. "I want you to keep this. Lock the door after I leave."

"But what about you and Klaus?"

"You'll have to let us in." Violet kissed her forehead. "We won't be long."

"What if I fall asleep?"

"It's alright. I can manage without a key." She rummaged around the sewing table, pocketing a few of Ethie's old hairpins. "Just in case," she said.

She closed the door behind her then, assured that Sunny was safe. _At least he can't get to her now. And I can keep an eye on him…_

It was sure to be an uneasy, nerve-wracking dinner, and the round kitchen table didn't help matters at all. _Ethie is going to push me toward him…she's been hinting at it for moths. I suppose she means well, but…_

A chill came over her then. She felt like a hunted animal, a deer in the headlights of an onrushing vehicle. _I won't be his prey. I won't._

* * *

 

Ethie had insisted that they bring out her fine china to celebrate. "I haven't seen so many people at this table in years," she said, fretting over the place settings. "We should sit boy-girl-boy-girl, don't you think? That's the way we always arrange things, when family comes to visit." She went on and on, without waiting for a reply. "I wasn't expecting you. For the life of me, I can't understand why you won't call or send a note to your mother from time to time." She smiled dotingly. "I'm just very pleased that you're here."

Klaus was increasingly aware of a pressing anger, a burgeoning sense of resentment toward her. She was trying the limits of his civility, with her repeated attempts to subtly maneuver Violet next to her son.

Violet ignored the remarks, busied herself with arranging the side dishes, as if she were completely oblivious to the older woman's intentions. But he knew better. She was on alert, her slight form taut with anxiety, and she'd nearly dropped the bowl of green beans when he handed it to her.

It made him bristle to see her struggle like this, while that bastard sat at the table in his military uniform… so comfortable, so smug, as if he thought that he could get away with anything. And he was watching Violet's every move.

 _She's evading them, but she can't keep it up much longer._ He could see that she despised the game, as much as he did. That was reason enough for him to act. _We have to face him sometime. It might as well be now._

"Ethie told us a lot about you." He pulled up a chair next to Gerard, taking the place they'd meant for Violet. "What's your rank, exactly?"

Gerard sat back in his chair. "My work is not a topic for conversation," he said gruffly. "It's classified."

"What about your family?" Klaus stared at him pointedly. "You have a sister too, as I understand it."

Violet took a seat beside her brother then. "We'd all like to meet her."

For a moment, Gerard almost seemed flustered. "You won't be meeting her. She doesn't come around here anymore."

Klaus' fingers brushed against hers, under the table, and she squeezed his hand briefly. "There's always a chance she might come back, don't you think?"

"She won't be back," Gerard stated, as if that were the end of the discussion.

"You sound awfully certain." Violet pressed him, searching for something, anything, to make him quit staring at her. And she spoke with a layer of sincerity. "I'm sorry. It's terrible to lose someone important to you."

"She wasn't that important. Girls like her are a dime a dozen."

Violet felt her brother go stiff with shock, as she had herself. And she glanced to Ethie, wondering if she'd heard the callous response. But the older woman was preoccupied, removing a roast from the oven. _She didn't even notice…her hearing can't be that deficient…_

Gerard studied them appraisingly, his gaze lingering on Violet, with an arrogant smirk that infuriated her. "There aren't many girls like you." He tried to grasp her hand, but she pulled away quickly, before he could. And she reached for one of the food bowls.

"Green beans?" She asked innocently, offering it to him.

His eyes clouded over, in what Klaus recognized as fuming rage, as if he wanted to choke the life out of her then and there.

 _If he makes a move at her, I'll lay him low._ Adrenaline surged like iron in his veins. And it didn't matter that he'd never had a day of combat training, or that Gerard was nearly twice his size.

He was fast enough to offset the difference…he had to be…

"Are we ready?" Ethie cut in, apparently unaware of the seething tension in the room. She looked to her son then. "Why don't you say grace, dear?"

* * *

 

Klaus and Violet finished the meal in silence, while Ethie told her son about events on the farm, and the most recent gossip from town.

She chatted on, immersed in her stories, and she didn't seem to realize that he wasn't listening.

Violet looked down at her plate, but she could feel his eyes on her, as if he knew that it made her uncomfortable…as if he had her cornered.

Beneath the tablecloth, Klaus reached for her hand again, lacing their fingers together.

She knew that he saw the vulnerable side of her, the sensitivity that made her fragile. He wanted to be her protector, her shield. But he still believed in her…still admired her strength and courage and resourcefulness. They were partners, equals, and she could feel it in the pace of his heart, his pulse in tandem with hers.

Her brother would never abandon her- not to this man, not to anyone.

His voice stirred in her mind then. _He can't have you..._

She squared her shoulders, sat up a little straighter.

 _No,_ she swore to herself, in silent agreement. _No, he will not._


	16. Children of Misfortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The folktale referenced here is a relatively modern retelling of a much older story. Among all folk stories and songs, there is some variation in the character's names and in the events that occur. The version that I used is from a 1909 book by Richard Wagner, translated into English by Oliver Huckel.

Disclaimer: standard

Warning: incest, sexual content

* * *

 

 

Children of Misfortune

"It is not within the power of Fortune, as some fools think, to overcome so easily one who will not be overcome. Fortune yokes only those who submit to her."

~ Leon Battista Alberti

"One need not be a chamber to be haunted; one need not be a house. The brain has corridors that surpass material place."

~Emily Dickinson

* * *

 

Violet stood at the kitchen sink as she washed the last of the dinner dishes, a swarm of questions crowding in her mind. _He's up to something…Why would he come back now? Does he know that we found his little "bunker" ? How could he? And how did he get here? We didn't see another car outside the house…Did Ethie pick him up? If she knew he was coming, then why didn't she say so before?_ She sighed. At the moment, one matter took precedence above all others.

"Is he still there?" She spoke under her breath.

"I don't know." Klaus was standing next to her, drying a plate with a dishrag. "I can't tell without turning around."

"Maybe there's another way."

She held a silver butter knife in her hand, as if to ensure that it was clean. But he knew that she was using the reflective surface to see behind her. She glanced to her brother, nodded slightly, and he caught her meaning.

Gerard had excused himself, politely enough, saying that he would go to bed early, tired as he was from the long trip. She didn't believe a word of that.

Klaus reached up to place a stack of dishes in the cupboard, as nonchalantly as he could, and he cast a glance at the kitchen entrance. He could see Gerard heading down the hall, past the old sewing room, and Sunny… "He's walking away," his voice was low, barely a whisper. "I think he's going to his room."

"We have to call the police tonight," she said. "We have to tell them."

"Ethie won't be too happy if she finds out. She'll try to stop us."

"I know," she sighed. "He's her son. I think she would defend him, no matter what." _Even though he might've killed her daughter…_

"We don't have the phone number for the sheriff's office," he said, closing the cabinet.

"We can call the operator." Violet tugged at the apron strings around her neck, to loosen them.

She felt his hand on the back of her shoulders, brushing her hair aside, untying the apron. And suddenly, she couldn't think about telephone calls, or evil schemes, or gullible old women. She wanted to have him close again, wanted him to touch her…

His arms slid around her from behind, held her to him for a moment. "What if they won't listen?"

"At least we'll know that we tried. If they won't investigate, we'll find someone who will. But first…" She disentangled herself then, reluctantly, and she stepped away from him. "…first we have to get out of here."

He glanced toward the telephone, located on a shelf just off of the front living area.

"You should make the call." She gave him a slight smile. "You're the persuasive negotiator."

"I'm not really persuasive," he said. "When that works with people, it's only because I play on their feelings. I manipulate them. They don't really consider my evidence."

Her hand trailed down the side of his arm. "Maybe they will this time. He's not in disguise, you know. He's not an actor... Just do the best you can."

"We never use the phone, Vi. We don't have anyone to contact-she knows that."

"She won't notice…I'll distract her." Just then, Violet heard Ethie calling to her from the next room, asking for her help. Or rather, asking for "Helen."

Responding to the false name had become second nature to her, and Violet turned without a moment's pause. "Now's our chance."

Their eyes met in another glance, a fleeting instant. And then she was gone.

He picked up the telephone receiver, and he drew a deep breath, willing himself to sound convincing. _They'll believe me. They have to believe me…_

* * *

 

"I thought I'd left my photograph album on the bed, but I fear I've misplaced it again. For the life of me, I can't remember things the way I used to."

Violet felt a pang of sympathy for the elderly woman, in spite of herself. "Would you like me to look for it?"

"No, no, dear. No need to trouble yourself. But I do feel quite warm. Would you bring me a damp cloth?"

Violet nodded, hoping that she didn't have a fever. _We'll have a difficult time leaving tomorrow, if she's not well._ She chided herself then. _How can I be so coldhearted, after all she's done for us?_ "I'll just be a minute," she said.

She headed to the end of the hall, to the washroom, for a small hand towel. A sinking, uneasy feeling came over her before she went in. It was right next to Gerard's room. She could see a light on, under his door, but there were no shadows, no indication of what he might be doing.

She chose a towel from the washroom cabinet, ran it under the faucet, and she gave little thought to her reflection in the mirror above the sink. But then she started. There had been a flicker of movement, a glint of something behind her…

She spun around quickly, her eyes scanning the dark hall. He wasn't there. No one was there. _It's nothing,_ she told herself. _I'm sure it's nothing. He wouldn't dare to come after me now. Not here, in the house._ And then she remembered his sister. _Yes, he would,_ she realized. _He would…_

Hurriedly, she returned to Ethie with the cloth. And she didn't look back at Gerard's room, didn't check to see if he was watching, if he was there, behind her… because a part of her feared that he would be.

At Ethie's door, she stopped for a moment, to regain her composure, and she wondered how Klaus had fared with the sheriff's office. She felt stronger at the thought of him. _Either way, we're going tomorrow. We'll leave all this behind for good._

* * *

 

He found Violet in the kitchen, her back turned to him, and she nearly jumped when she heard him come in.

"It's me," he said quickly, "It's okay."

She exhaled then, tried to catch her breath, and he saw that she was fixing a plate of food. "For Sunny," her voice was hushed, so soft that he almost couldn't hear her. "She didn't want to eat before, but she might've changed her mind."

She looked up then, a question in her eyes, and he sighed.

"I talked to one of the deputies. He said the bodies were probably from an old gravesite… the rain unearths things like that sometimes." He shook his head. "I told him about Gerard and the bracelet, and how we think he might be responsible for…for what happened. He didn't believe me. He didn't even believe that Gerard was back in town."

"Why not?"

"They were old schoolmates. According to him, Gerard hasn't contacted anyone in town, and he would've come to say 'Hello,' if he were here. The deputy just accused me of making up lies. Then, I thought he might want to arrest me…you know, for lying to him. He might send someone out here." She could see a hint of mischief in his eyes. "But he told me to quit wasting his time."

"We don't need them, then." Relief coursed through him at the sound of her voice, the light touch of her hand on his arm. "We _can't_ need them, Klaus. We'll have to save ourselves." _Just like we always do…_

Thunderbolts crashed above them, a storm breaking overhead, and they clasped hands. Sunny was waiting for them.

Their little sister didn't say a word after she let them in, only burrowed under a blanket on the bed she shared with Violet.

"Sunny, you really should eat something." Violet set the plate down on the sewing table. "It may be a while before we have another meal."

"I told you," she said. "I'm not hungry."

Klaus noticed something under the covers with her, a strange, rectangular lump. "What have you got under there, Sunny?"

"No…" she protested, when he tried to move the blanket away. "I don't want to look at it again."

But he glimpsed a leather-bound book, laid open. He'd seen it before. "It's Ethie's photo album."

"No wonder she couldn't find it." Violet turned around then. "You took it, didn't you? Sunny, what were you thinking?"

"I snuck out, while everyone was eating," she said. "I wanted to see _his_ pictures again. Maybe he wasn't the man on the trolley. Then we could stay." She sniffed, holding back tears. "But I found this instead." And she offered the open book to her brother.

His eyes grew wide, as if he'd seen a ghost. "Violet, look at this."

There were two pictures on the page…a smiling young girl of twelve or thirteen, on the back of a horse, her brown hair pleated into two braids. Violet recognized Roderick immediately. But panic gripped her when she saw the other photograph. The same young girl, with a silver charm bracelet on her wrist…

"She's dead." Sunny hugged her knees, curling into a ball. "I wish I hadn't seen it."

Violet gave the book to Klaus, and she went to sit on the bed with her sister. "It's alright…it's alright, Sunny."

"It's not alright," she sobbed. "I wish I didn't know."

Violet pulled the little girl into a hug. "You've solved it, Sunny. This is the proof we need. I think it's enough to bring an investigation, at least. " _And no one had to risk dying for it._ "We can help her now, because of you."

Klaus put the album aside, and he retrieved Ethie's folktale book from the table. "Hey," he said gently. "It's our last night here. Why don't we read one more story?"

 

His intention had only been to comfort Sunny, to distract her from the horrible truth she'd stumbled upon. But now, he almost couldn't believe what he was reading...what he had stumbled upon...

_The_ _Valkyire,_ the story of Siegmund and Sieglinda… a brother and sister who loved each other too much...

_They were twins, children of the king of the gods, Woton, and a mortal woman, separated when the boy went hunting with his father, and returned to find his home burned, his mother murdered, and his sister nowhere to be found…_

He swallowed hard. It was almost too difficult for him to read further.

"Soon afterward, his father disappeared, and he was left to wander from place to place, alone. Until one day, when he happened upon a strange house built around a tree, with the tree trunk in the middle of the great room. He went in to find shelter from a raging storm." A thunderclap sounded, as if to enhance the effect of his words. "And then he saw her." He glanced up from the book, to Violet, and suddenly, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

She and Sunny looked to him expectantly, waiting to hear the next part. And he realized that he wanted to know as much as they did.

The lady of the house was his long-lost sister, and they loved each other instantly… She'd been forced to marry a brutal man, against her will… He shut his eyes, agony like fire in the pit of his stomach. _He calls himself a 'child of misfortune'… she says that misfortune has long been with her…_

Memories…violent and distressing….He didn't want to bring them to the surface. But it was like an obsession for him now, a compulsion, and he had to keep reading.

_Seglinda drugged her husband's drink, so that he would sleep, and they escaped…They ran away together. But they didn't have enough time…he pursued them, with the help of his kinsman, and hunting dogs…_

"Stop, stop!" He could hear Sunny crying again. "They're going to die. I know they are." Her voice was so small, so sad, and guilt stabbed through him. "I don't want anyone to die."

He was about to close the book, for all and for good, when Violet caught his eye.

"We won't let anyone die," she said. "Nothing is fated. We'll make our own ending."

They shared a soft look then, a smile, and, after a moment, Sunny asked him to finish the story.

* * *

 

Klaus stationed himself in front of the door that night. He lay awake, under one of Ethie's quilts, conscious of every creak and groan in the old house, braced for a hint of sound in the floorboards, the click of a key in the door lock.

His eyes settled on Sunny and Violet, the faint outline of their sleeping forms in the lower bunk. And he knew that he could do without the elemental comforts, without a roof over his head and a warm place to sleep, without even a book to his name. But he couldn’t go on without his girls.

He felt a pair of eyes on him then, watching him, like crystals in the gray night. _Violet…_

She'd jolted awake in a cold sweat, her hands clutching at the blanket, and she looked stricken, as if she'd been backed into a trap, running from something she couldn't escape...

His gaze never left her as she slid from the bed, as she fell into his arms, her body cold and trembling. He kissed her eyes, gathered her close, and he didn't ask for an explanation.

He knew she had dreams. He'd seen her caught in them, more times than he could bear to count. He'd roused her from them, only to listen helplessly as she cried herself to sleep again.

In waking, she merely left one nightmare for another. The figures in the shadows were all too real, the lurking predators, haunting them at every turn. And she had always been the big sister, the one who tried so hard to make everything alright…

How many nights had he ached to hold her like this?

She curled herself around him, hiding, and he rocked her gently, whispered his love to her until she fell asleep.

He pulled the quilt up to cover them, let his body become her bedframe, as she'd once built a sanctuary around him.

And he couldn't help thinking of the folktale… of the _real_ ending…. Siegmund, holding his sister, the woman he loved, while she slept… Refusing to leave her, though the gods decreed that he would die if he stayed…

He didn't have to wonder at Sunny's reaction- that story resembled their own far too closely. _But it's just a story **.** Our lives aren't ruled by any 'gods'…Violet said nothing is fated…_And he felt the memory of her voice, like a soft blanket in the dark. _We'll make our own ending._

She stirred then, kissed the side of his chin, and his hand skimmed through her hair.

"Klaus, can't you sleep?"

"I was just… thinking."

"Should I go? I don't…I don't want to make things difficult." He didn't have to see her to know that she was turning scarlet.

"No," his arm caught around her waist, securing her against him, and he felt himself blush at the instinctive reaction. "I mean…only if you want to."

She cuddled into him, felt his hand glide along her spine, and she sighed softly. "You changed the end, didn't you? Sunny was right."

"How did you know?"

"I could see it," she said. "You were…inventing things. You're good to her, Klaus." A smile curled at the corner of her mouth. "Besides, I don't think people in the Dark Ages knew how to thwart search dogs with pepper."

"Hey," he grinned. "It could've happened that way."

She pressed her lips to his then, so lightly that it might've been a dream, and he wanted to stay all night, submerged in her heated kisses, the soft embrace of her arms.

But, all at once, she froze, pushing him back, her eyes wild and terrified. And he knew…She was reliving the day… _that_ day… when she had almost been…

"Vi?" He laid a hand on the side of her face. "Violet?" But he saw no spark of recognition, no warmth in her eyes. Her expression was blank, distant, as if she couldn't hear him at all.

She was there again, the hot stench of breath on her face, the harsh, grasping hands… _No…_ A cruel, looming figure shoving her into the wall, rough stone scraping her back, his body pushed obscenely against hers… _NoNoNo..._

"Violet…" He pulled her to him, captured her mouth, hard and swift and desperate, like the first time he'd ever kissed her. And, at last, he felt her respond, felt her kiss him in return.

She blinked then, comprehending, and she remembered where she was….wrapped up in her brother's arms.

He hugged her against him, buried his face in her hair. She shut her eyes, holding him tight.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for loving me."

Burning tears blurred his vision. She loved him as he was, here and now, and she didn't want to change him. She loved _him_ , and she made him powerful, gave him strength enough to challenge the world. "I'm the one who owes you thanks…I owe you everything."

Sunny murmured something unintelligible, and she rolled onto her side, facing the wall. The elder Baudelaires glanced at her, watched her carefully for a moment, until they could be sure that she was fast asleep.

They smiled at each other then, almost shyly. It was a dangerous thing- to need another person so much, to be entirely open… defenseless.

But they had nothing to fear from one another. No tricks or demands, no selfish pretenses...only love…natural and tender.

His willpower was suddenly, irrevocably lost in the slight caress of her hand on his chest, the beauty of her soul in her eyes…

And he thanked his stars that she would trust him, that nothing stood between them here.

Violet tugged at the hem of his shirt then, helped him to lift it over his head, and he undid the buttons on her nightdress, kissing her as he slid the garment away…

He rained kisses to her breasts, making her stifle a cry, and she held him closer, needing him, his scent, his breath, his hands…

There was no place she wouldn't let him kiss or touch, and he wanted it all, wanted each tiny fraction of her, all at once.

He ran his lips along her collarbone, holding her hips as she arched into the gentle contact. And then he dipped his head…

"Klaus..." His mouth was like a blaze on her skin, his hair under her hands…He sent her into a whirlwind, her senses reeling...and he didn't stop...

He reveled in the softness of her legs, her sharp intake of breath as he delved between them.

Explosions flared through her, one after another... left her flushed and panting.

She came alive to his touch, for him, only for him... his fingers so warm inside of her, finding their place...

He coaxed her to another shuddering gasp, felt her breathe his name, her lips at his shoulder, her body warm and naked in his arms.

And he eased into her, little by little, until she could feel every last inch of him…

They were joined together, merged so deeply that he thought he would die, her body quivering, holding him, hands stealing over his back as he moaned into her mouth. He kissed his way up her shoulder to her throat, lingered there before he ventured down again… slow and languid, drawing soft pleasure sounds from her…

Her mind was clouded, her only thought that she needed him to move, to take her…

She rocked into him, urging him, and she felt a soft moan against her neck.

"Not yet," he whispered. "Not yet, Vi."

She let out a sob as he pulled away, as he lifted her leg higher on his back, only to slide in deeper…

It seemed that she had always been here, under the blissful weight of his hands, his mouth, the lean strength of his form, so still…

Their lips met in a searing kiss, her fingers digging into the back of his neck, and he couldn't...he couldn't wait anymore...

They both sighed in heady rapture, a pleasure beyond pleasure, as he shifted, as he gave himself to her completely. There was nothing better than this, her body embracing him, relaxing in the long, slow rhythm of his hips, her spirit drifting into him like mercy.

He felt the serenity, the thunder, the exquisite tenderness in her. And it was all he would ever need.


	17. Still Breathing

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, sexual content, implied violence

* * *

 

Still Breathing

"Murderers, in general, are people who are consistent, people who are obsessed with one idea and nothing else."

~ Ugo Betti

"The meaning of good and bad, of better and worse, is simply helping or hurting."

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

 

Violet sank into an easy, dreamless sleep that night, sheltered from the restless memories, the paralyzing fear.

In her first stirrings of consciousness, he was all she knew, his bare skin pressed to hers, arms close around her waist, the back of her shoulders, and his heart against her ear. She was lulled by the gentle, even pulse of his body. And he matched her, breath for breath, as if she were a part of him. She'd spend every night this way if he wanted her, if they managed to survive. 

He would be the one she opened her eyes to every morning, and the last thing she felt before sleep took her away. The thought sent a glimmer of peace through her.

She'd known more than a few people who sought constant change, who would dismiss the life she wanted so badly. They would call it boring and monotonous, no doubt; unbearably predictable. But she was never bored with him.

Her family had spent too many years in the wind, never quite sure of what would happen from one day to the next… never able to count on anything, on food and lodging and a moment to breathe freely.

She loved the routines they'd settled into here, the security in knowing that she could reach for him in the darkness. And he would be there.

His hand smoothed over her leg, reminding her of the night before, and she sighed as he brushed a languid kiss into her neck.

She held him at arm's length, to see him, to play her fingers through his hair, all unruly and perfect. He smiled when she did, soft eyes meeting hers. And she didn't have to guess at his thoughts. He wanted her, for always, wanted her in every muscle, every fiber of his being.

He descended on her then, claimed her with a strength that left her breathless, drinking in the lush, sweet fever, the fire in her.

He knew her body, the way she tensed, and then, slowly, allowed herself to let go… quivering when he kissed her mouth, the swell of her breasts… slender hands in his hair, _her_ hands, pulling him tight, until it seemed there was nothing left of him at all.

And he didn't care if they ever reached the end, if they stayed this way until the seas ran dry. He would never have enough of her, could never be close enough…

Shockwaves collided in her with the firm press of his body, an electric current in her blood, in his blood, binding them together. She wanted nothing more for herself , nothing more than to know that she was his, that no one would lay a hand on her again…Only Klaus, only hands she wanted to touch her.

She felt a shuddering warmth deep inside, a stirring of the elements… Air and fire, earth and rain, and she belonged to them all, as she belonged to him…

They lay still for a while afterward, tangled up in one another. She could feel herself drifting, falling into sleep again, calmed by the reassurance of his hold on her. But she forced her eyes open.

They had responsibilities, after all, a dark and sinister world to confront outside the door. And their little sister, only a few feet away...

She sighed."We can't stay here, can we?"

He kissed the top of her head, swept her hair back, behind her shoulders. "We still have to pack, and look in on the animals," he said.

She let her fingers slide over his chest, absently. "There are some loose boards on the barn… on the west wall. I had planned to fix them today."

"We should get up."

"We should," she echoed softly.

But she didn't move, and neither did he.

She felt him hold his breath, felt his arms clinch hard around her waist, protecting her. "You're thinking about Gerard, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "We'll have to make sure he's still in his room... I saw it last Monday, when I was looking for a hammer. There wasn't much… just a bed and a nightstand and a candle lamp. What's he doing in there?"

She smiled wryly. "He's probably wondering the same thing about us." But another thought tore through her mind, a memory, like a blood-curdling chill. "I think he killed her, Klaus. He slipped once…he said she _wasn't_ that important. _Wasn't_ … not _isn't_. I think he knows that she…that she's not coming back."

"I just want to get us out of here," he said. "He's up to something, Vi. Even if he's not a killer, I don't…" He fought down the pounding in his head, the urge to fight for her, to crash through Gerard's door and pummel him unconscious. "… I don't like what he did to you."

"I'm not a person to him." She could feel the revulsion welling up in her again, his snake eyes raking over her like pawing hands, vulgar and sickening. "He was trying to control me…force me into a position where I… I couldn't get away from him. He scares me, Klaus." Wind rattled the house, driving silt into the windowpanes, and she closed her eyes. "I didn't hide it very well. Did you see the look on his face? He knew that he was making me uncomfortable. That's what he wanted."

"He compared you to his sister." His voice was harsh, laced with a thinly veiled anger, but she knew it wasn't meant for her.

 _His murdered sister...He thinks of us in the same way._ She felt nauseous, as if she were back in the cavern again.

"Ethie told me something once...that she complained about him. Emma, I mean. Her daughter. He would follow her around all the time, when she didn't want him to... It was a running joke in town. People said that he was like her shadow."

Her brother clutched her to him, so hard that she could barely breathe, but she needed this, needed to be held, to feel him close.

"They thought he was just looking after her, but I think they were wrong, Klaus." She dug her fingers into his arm, unwittingly. "I think he had an obsession."

He felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. As much as he tried to stay near Violet and Sunny, to keep them safe, he couldn't understand that…the attempts to force contact, to dominate her.

 _Emma wasn't in any danger, except from him... her own brother._ It sounded like surveillance, almost as if she'd been stalked or… hunted.

"How could he do that, Vi? If he loved her, how could he…"

"I don't think it was about love, Klaus. I think it was about power." Her voice was quiet, stilted, almost as if she could see this girl they'd never met, across the void of time. As if she knew her. "When people only think of themselves…when they want power more than anything, it destroys them. It turns them into monsters, and they can't…they can't feel anymore." She buried her face against him as he stroked a hand through her hair. "He was selfish, and he wanted her. But if he couldn't...couldn't have her, then no one would. He had to make sure of it."

He felt his heart constrict. She wasn't only talking about Emma.

And, against his will, the memories wafted over him like acrid smoke.

Olaf, his white hair dyed a muted red, in the garb of a police patrolman. _So no one would question him when he grabbed her_.

He'd seen it, from across the street, too far away to help her… And he remembered everything… the breeze of traffic speeding by, deafening, like the roar in his head, the panic. It was the day he'd learned that he was capable of murder.

But he couldn't kill another person in cold blood, couldn't kill just anybody. One man-a monster, really. The vile bastard who'd put his baby sister in a cage, who would steal Violet's life, and lay waste to everything he loved…

It wasn't enough that he'd reduced their world to dust and ashes. _He had to take her, too._

The alley was a narrow space between two buildings, full of shadows in the dusk and gloom, where the sunlight couldn't penetrate. But his eyes were set on the outline of a man, pinning his sister to the wall, striking at her, even as she fought him. Spider-like hands, seizing her in a vice-hold…ripping her dress… _Just before I hit him._

Rage burned in his throat, threatening to choke him, and he could almost feel the metal curtain rod in his grip again, the heavy, solid weight of it, the pressure of impact. _I could've killed him…if he'd been alone, if we didn't have to run, I could've killed him…_

The sound of her voice brought him back then. "He wanted to hurt me, Klaus, so I'd know that he had all the power. He could do anything to us, and I couldn't stop him."

The memory cut like a serrated blade, searing in his mind, but he was determined to stand it, to be a rock for her. And he knew that it was true, what she'd said. No matter how he tried, he never could forget…the twisted gleam in Olaf's shiny eyes when he leered at Violet, the malice in his grin.

He didn't love her, only lusted after her. And beyond that, he wanted to see her broken and defeated, to make her pay in pain for every thwarted plan, for all her cleverness… for defying him.

Klaus felt his stomach turn.

He heard her sigh again. "We have to go. Maybe we can slip away quietly, before Gerard wakes up." She studied the bunkbed then, where Sunny still slept, and she was silent for a moment, thinking. "Ethie gave us the wood , even though she won't have any use for a bed like that...And we'll be taking the work clothes with us….We'll have to send her some money, when we can."

"You want to pay her back, after what she did to you?" Violet didn't miss the ire in his voice.

"We can't think of people in pieces, Klaus. She helped us when we had nowhere to go."

"And then she tried to set you up with a guy who killed his girlfriends."

"I'm not sure about the others," she told him. "It seems unlikely that they all just left town, without telling anyone...but we can't prove it, Klaus." Her breath was warm on his shoulder.

"Look at what we can prove, Vi." He nearly crushed her again. "I'm not leaving you alone with him. I'm not leaving you."

Suddenly, she could only see pale skulls and chains and damp stone walls… Her eyes squeezed shut in a hopeless attempt block it all out. _I won't let him… I won't ever let him…_

"I know." Her voice was raw, little more than a whisper, and he felt it in the marrow of his bones. "I won't leave you either."

Violet picked up Ethie's photo album, as they repacked their few, meager belongings in the suitcase, and she hesitated. It held the pictures of Emma, with the bracelet...on the horse…evidence that they would need to show to the authorities. But she recalled how upset the older woman had been, thinking that her memories had been lost. _This album means so much to her, and she'll never see her daughter again…_ There was a catch in her throat, tears threatening to overcome her.

And her mind flashed back to a cold autumn night, in the boxcar of a freight train...to her brother. Although the calendar would show an interval of nearly six months, it seemed a lifetime ago. _Sometimes principles are a luxury…_ She hadn't fully understood then.

"Vi, we have to bring that." His voice decided her, his hand gentle on her shoulder. "If we don't turn him in, who will?"

She nodded, without a word, and she slipped the album into their bag. _Things are different now._

For the first time, Violet thought about the button-down shirt and trousers she wore for work in the barn each day. They had once belonged to Gerard. She'd washed them countless times, to be sure, but she couldn't help feeling repulsed. The clothing had been his… had been on his body. She forced the idea aside. _What's the matter with me? It's better than ruining my skirt._ This would be their last morning on the farm, in any case, the last time she'd ever need to wear such things. She could do it. _Just once more._

Her little sister still refused the plate of food, and Violet left it on the sewing table, with a momentary pang of guilt. _We're leaving a mess behind_. But they couldn't linger here, not with that man in the house, and Sunny to protect… _It can't be helped._

Once they were all dressed and ready to go, Violet snuffed out the little candle on the table. And she held onto her sister with one hand, clasping the handle of their suitcase in the other.

Slowly, Klaus unlocked the door to their room, and he winced at the brief, grating sound as he pulled it open. His eyes darted to Gerard's door, down the length of the darkened hallway. But there was nothing to see, no light, no trace movement.

He gathered Sunny up, to carry her, and his hand grazed Violet's arm, signaling her to go ahead of him. _It's better if I can see her, and anyone who might…_ Pain scythed through him, sharp and blistering, like needles in his scalp. _We can't hide forever_.

"We'll just feed the animals, and say 'goodbye' to Roderick. Then we're going," Violet told her brother and sister, as they made their way down the front porch steps.

Klaus glanced at the house once more, warily, as though he didn't want to turn his back on it.

She saw his thoughts then, felt a crawling in her skin. He half-expected someone to appear at any moment, to prevent their escape. It was too simple, this departure…too easy. _But we're not doing anything out of the ordinary,_ she reminded herself. _Except that we have the suitcase...They have no reason to think we'd leave today._

Sunny peered at her, over their brother's shoulder, and she seemed to share their disquiet. "What if he follows us?"

Violet ran a hand over the little girl's head, ruffling her hair. "We'll make it," she said, with a confidence she didn't feel entirely.

Klaus shifted Sunny's weight onto his one arm, his shoulder. "Let's go." He reached for Violet's hand, and she met him halfway, her fingers cold in his.

The moon was high that night, nearly full, and they could see the first faint strands of sunlight on the horizon. Finally, _finally,_ they would be heading toward it. A few more strides, a few more days on the run, and then…freedom…

Violet noted a fog in the air, a canopy of mist. It was strange, she thought, given the windy conditions. And the nagging doubts persisted in her mind. "Klaus, what is that?"

"I don't know," he said. "Something's wrong."

"What's that smell?" Sunny crinkled her nose. "It smells like the house."

 _The house?_ With a sick, sinking feeling, she realized what she'd meant. Their old house, the one burned in the fire. _It isn't mist…it's smoke..._

 


	18. Unhinged

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, violence.

* * *

 

Unhinged

"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

\- William Shakespeare, _The Tempest_

* * *

 

"The barn…There's a fire in the barn!" Klaus set Sunny down, and he took her hand. "Come on!"

In an instant, they were all running toward it.

Violet reached the double doors first, and she flung them open, billows of smoke pouring over her, clouding the air. Her eyes watered and she coughed, tried to cover her mouth and nose with her hands. _Roderick's in there, the cows, and who knows how many barn cats…We have to get them out._ She took a breath, and then she plunged into the smoke, grasping blindly for the tin milk pails they kept inside, near the entrance. _They're here…they have to be here…_

Klaus and Sunny were just behind her, shouting to her, but she didn't answer, didn't even dare to breathe… _There!_ Her fingers scraped against one metal bucket, and then another, and she grabbed them by the handles.

She felt lightheaded, all but faint, and she turned, to make her way back. But she was dizzy, disoriented, and she couldn't…she couldn't find the doors…

A hand closed around her wrist then, yanked her forward, and she fell against her brother as they tumbled outside, coughing violently.

"Violet!" He was breathing hard, his hands almost rough on her face, tilting her head. He needed to see her eyes, to know that she was alright.

"I…I found the pails," she said weakly, out of breath.

For a moment, he wanted to shake some sense into her, to tell her that the barn wasn't worth it, wasn't worth her life. But he only brushed a kiss to her mouth, held her briefly as she clung to his shirt.

"The trough…we need water." She glanced to the left, to the east side of the barn.

Sunny sprinted away with one of the buckets and they followed after her, Klaus stripping off his shirt, soaking it in the trough.

A strong wind blew around them, clearing the air slightly, and he waited in the doorway for a few seconds, let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. There were no fires that he could see… not so much as an ember. It was uncanny- not at all what he'd anticipated. _But where there's smoke…_

He went in then, with Violet on his heels.

"Stay back," she told Sunny. "Stay by the doors."

The little girl was having none of it. "I can help," she said, adamant. "I'll let them out."

Violet had sudden visions of her tiny sister being trampled by the frightened animals. "Sunny, no!" But there was no time to argue.

"Over here!" She heard Klaus' voice then. "I think I see where it's coming from." He stood near a pile of dry straw, in the first empty horse stall. The smoke was thick, nearly suffocating, and he held his shirt to his face, breathing through it. "Violet, in here!"

She tossed a bucketful of water into the haze before rushing out again, for more.

He tried to beat at the straw with his shirt, but his eyes watered, stinging. It was difficult to see, to determine the exact origin of the smoke. _This is wrong…_ Realization hit him like a punch in the stomach. _Sawdust, dry hay, old wood-it's all highly flammable. This place is an inferno waiting to happen._

Alarms sounded in him, louder and louder, ringing through his head like terrified screams. _The smoke is white, not gray…the fire's not actively burning, it's smoldering. But the barn should've gone up in flames before we even knew about it… And the animals haven't made a sound…_

He glimpsed something then, a flash of white in the hay, reflected in the pale moonlight that seeped through the open doors. A white plastic sphere, with one end broken open… some sort of capsule.

Leaning down to retrieve it, he nearly lost his footing, and he braced himself against the wall for support. It was slick…

 _What?_ He pulled his hand back, found it coated with an odd, slippery substance. _Like oil or...blood._ His heart stopped cold.

"Sunny, get out of here!" He threw his shirt down, bolting from the stall. "Get out of here now!"

She ran to him, from the far side of the barn, and he could hear her sobbing. "I can't wake Roderick up! I can't wake any of them!"

"We have to go!" He swept her into his arms, and he whirled around, to make a dash outside.

But there was a click, a sudden, grating noise. And then they couldn't see at all. The doors had been shut.

* * *

 

Violet returned to the front of the barn, and she halted, forgetting the pail in her hands, nearly spilling the water.

The doors were closed and latched, a padlock through the handles. There was a gasoline container, discarded on the ground, overturned on its side. It hadn't been there before…

And then she saw a pair of combat boots… She saw him.

 _Gerard_ … He was dressed all in black, just as Sunny had described him on the trolley; dark brown hair, cropped short against his head, not so different from the tanned, smirking boy in the pictures she'd seen.

He seemed to move in slow motion now, with a disconcerting coolness… a tall, hulking form in the blue-grey light, his profile like a ghost, a shade on the door frame.

His eyes fixed on her then, looked her up and down- leisurely, as if he'd been expecting her, expecting this very scene, all along.

And, for a second, Violet thought that she might've been like the people in town, might've found him attractive enough, congenial and well-meaning. If not for the unnerving blankness in his eyes…

She felt her stomach drop.

A lighter flared in his hand…the gas canister…he was going to…

"No! Leave them alone!" She flung the water on him, dousing him, and the flame hissed out in a thin, vaporous trail.

 _He would've killed them…Klaus and Sunny…_ Horror slashed at her insides, like the sharp edge of a razor.

"Maybe I will," he dropped a key in the dirt at his feet…the key to the padlock. Her eyes followed it as it fell. "Or maybe I'll let you say goodbye first." He was grinning, a hollow, sardonic smile, impervious to the water on his face, his dripping hair.

She gripped the bucket handle, ready to launch herself at him, to keep him away from the barn, from her family. But she froze in her tracks.

He'd produced a small handgun, trained it on her directly.

"You look good in my clothes," he said. "'Course, you look even better without 'em."

* * *

 

"NoNoNo!"Klaus slammed his shoulder hard against the doors, pounding at the wood with his fists, with all his strength. "Violet!" They were trapped, locked in the darkened, smoky barn, and Violet was out there, alone with…

Panic seared through him.

"Violet!" He rattled the doors again, to no avail.

His hands were bruised and bloody, but he didn't even notice, not until he felt a tugging on his arm…

 _Sunny._ The thought of her pulled him from the white-hot rage, brought him back to his senses. She was there, watching him silently, her eyes red with tears and shock.

With a sinking stomach, he forced himself to admit that it was useless, that he had to be calm. _We'll never get out this way._

"There's no fire." he said, more to himself than to her. "It was a smoke bomb. He must've planted it, to lure us in here."

"He killed Roderick," she sniffed, her little sobs like small hiccups. "He killed all of them."

He squeezed her shoulder, to comfort her, but he felt a sharp, piercing regret. Whatever he might do, he couldn't save her from this, from the carnage and cruelty she'd already seen. And Violet… He shut his eyes against it, the agony of a knowledge he couldn't accept. _I can't protect them. I can't protect anyone_...

A memory flickered in his mind, something Violet had said only that morning, in passing… _There are some loose boards on the west wall…the west wall…_

And a light dawned inside of him. Once more, she'd given him exactly what he needed: hope, and the will to hold on… to hold onto her, no matter what he had to do.

 _There's still a chance._ It was slim, to be sure, but a chance nonetheless. He wasn't about to waste it.

"We're getting out of here, Sunny." There was a pitchfork to their left, leaning up against the wall, and he seized it, hands clenched around the wooden handle as if he meant to snap it in half. "He hasn't won yet."

* * *

 

"Don't make a sound," he hissed. "Don't try anything."

She took a step backward, and then another, thinking furiously. _Be strong- there's a way out. I only have to find it._

"Just let them go." She kept her voice firm, though she could feel herself shaking.

He advanced on her then, faster as she tried to back away, and he fired at the ground in front of her.

"What's your hurry?"

Vaguely, her inventor's mind took note of the silencer on the nozzle of his gun, the obvious implications. _He could kill us, and no one would ever even know… So why hasn't he?_

Hideous thoughts gleamed behind his soulless eyes, something inhuman. She fought the urge to vomit.

Suddenly, she was startled by a loud banging on the inside of the doors, her brother's voice, frantic, calling to her… And he hadn't used her alias…

_No...Oh no…_

"Violet, huh?" She'd never hated the sound of her own name so much. "That's real pretty."

"Is it?"

"Don't play stupid with me," he sneered. "I already know who you are… Violet Baudelaire."

 _Baudelaire._ The word sent a chill down her spine. _How could he possibly..._

"I saw you in the barn. I saw you with _him_."

She felt herself go numb, as if all the strength had been leached from her body. Her mind was spinning, scattered into a thousand fragments, before she centered on one thought, one horrible certainty… _He knows… he knows about us…_

"I could tell everyone."

She met his stare, unflinching. "I think you won't."

He grasped her roughly by the hair, forced her face closer to his. "I _will_ ," he taunted. "It'll be front-page news, nationwide. The Baudelaires…" His voice was like acid, burning into her, but she held herself steady. "You'll have nowhere to hide."

 _He didn't contact anyone in town. He doesn't want them to know he's here…_ "Go ahead, then. Reveal us and you reveal yourself." She'd learned to recognize empty threats long ago, learned to see them as a as a sign of weakness. "You're hiding secrets of your own, aren't you?"

He seemed to falter, at a loss, and for a moment, she thought she'd made a crack in his cool façade. But he recovered too quickly, reverted back to the arrogance, the domineering egotism. "Mother will believe me. She'll turn you out. Is that what you want? You want your precious little family living on the streets?"

"We've been there before," she said. "We'll survive."

"You're not leaving!" He threw her back then, all at once, sent her careening into the barn wall.

"N-" Her cry was stifled as he forced a savage kiss on her, as she tried to shove him away, struggling fiercely.

He reeked of smoke and blood and gasoline, his weight bearing down on her, repulsive. And he clutched a handful of her hair, so hard that her neck snapped back.

"You'll never leave me, Emma. You'll never leave me again." He ran the gun along the line of her shoulder, and lower, over her ribcage, taking in her wide eyes and ragged breaths, her fear. It was all an aphrodisiac to him. "Say it," he growled. "Say you'll never leave me."

She didn't answer, only leveled a glare at him in quiet defiance.

"Say it!" He gripped her throat, as if he would strangle the life out of her, his face contorted in a snarl. "Say it now, or I kill them!"

"I…I'll… never leave you," she managed to gulp out. "I'll never… leave you again." He removed his hand, and she gasped for air.

"You're lying!" He backhanded her. "All you ever do is lie!"

And she felt the barrel of the pistol at her neck, the cold, cold eyes, boring into her. _He'll kill me anyway. Even if I don't fight, he'll kill me…_

Violet brought her foot down on his, as hard as she could, clouted him in the head with the empty milk pail, kicking at his shins, at every weak point she could find.

"Ahh!" He fell back, releasing her, one hand flying to a jagged cut on his face.

She darted off, and he made to grab her, but she dodged him, running back to the east end of the barn. _If I can just lead him away…_

But she didn't get far before something crashed into the side of her leg, sent her sprawling to the ground. Seconds passed as she glanced backward, as she tried to stand, found that she couldn't. And then she felt the searing pain, the trickle of blood...

It took her another moment to realize she'd been shot.

A shadow fell across her like a dark curtain, the shape of a man.

"Let's see how far you get now."

* * *

 

Klaus aimed a kick at one of the loose boards, felt it give, and he used the pitchfork to push it outward, away from the wooden frame of the barn wall. _That makes two._ There was a narrow opening now, between the boards, almost big enough for his little sister.

"Sunny, do you think you can fit through there?"

"I think so. I'll make it work." She sounded too much like Violet just then.

"Run straight to the house," he told her. "Don't look back. Don't let anyone see you."

"I know," she said. "I'm supposed to call the operator, and get the sheriff, and then hide. I can do it."

She looked to him then, with sad, solemn eyes. "Where's Violet?"

His jaw clenched at the hard, wrenching cramp, the burning in his chest. He had to get her away from this, from the smoke and slaughter, to get to Violet. Nothing else mattered now.

He fought down a fresh wave of panic, the tears brimming in his eyes, and he shook his head, drew her into a hug. "We'll find her."

"How will you get out?" The little voice came again.

"Don't worry about me, just be careful." He set her free. "Go on, Sunny."

Sunny hugged him once more, quickly, and then she slipped out through the gap in the wall.

Dread swirled in him like a toxin, a mortal wound, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't help his sisters if he lost control. _There must be another way. I need to think…_

He reached for the pitchfork _._ And then, he heard a scream.

 


	19. Choices

Warning: incest, violence, language, intense situations.

Disclaimer: standard

* * *

 

 

Choices

"Those things which are precious are saved only by sacrifice."- David Kenyon Webster

* * *

 

A hand snagged in Violet's hair, hauled her painfully to her feet. She was thrown back into the barn wall, the cold steel of the gun barrel pushed against her side.

She felt a terrible throbbing in her head, her bloodied leg, but she didn't blink, didn't move a muscle. _I_ _have to distract him…get him talking…Maybe he'll make a mistake…_

"I'm not your sister." Her voice was a challenge, clear and strong, though she could barely compel her battered body to stand.

"Don't talk about her!"

A vicious slap echoed in the wind, the cool night air, and she tasted blood on her lip.

"Why not?" She faced him then, eyes blazing. "I thought you knew my real name. You said it before. I'm not Emma."

"Shut up!" He hit her again and again, undeterred by her resistance. And still, she refused to give in.

"You wanted something more from her, didn't you? But she didn't want you."

Violent hands tore her shirt open, exposing her neck, and he tossed the gun aside, brandished the lighter, a flame. _No…please, no…_

She let out a scream as he touched it to her skin.

"See," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather. "It still works." He twisted her arm then, wrenched her into another kiss-brutal, as if he meant to asphyxiate her, turn her inside out.

Her head was swimming, aching, her nerves on fire in mind-splitting pain, and she couldn't breathe anymore. There was no air, nothing left to hold onto…

"You're a sick little bitch, aren't you? Spreading your legs for your own brother." She screamed again as he shoved his knee into her injured leg.

"He never made you scream, I know." He grinned maniacally at her. "Ask me how I know."

Her eyes flared and she spit in his face.

Then he was on her, batting her down with his fist. And he aimed a kick at her prone form, left her sobbing on the ground. "Fight all you want. No one's coming for you."

* * *

 

Sunny peered around the corner of the barn, cautious, in case anyone should see her. She'd seen the man in black chase after Violet, heard her scream, and, more than anything, she wanted to throw a rock at his head. On impulse, she glanced about for one, when a sudden hint of metal caught her eye, glittering in the moonlight. _The key. He dropped the key._

She could hear sounds on the opposite side of the barn now, her sister and…and _him…_ muffled sobs, an enraged, shouting voice. If she went for it now, he might not notice, and she could get her brother out of the barn. But then she remembered her promise. _If I get caught, who will call for help_?

She looked to the key, and then, in the direction of the voices, trying to be quiet, and trying to think, and trying desperately not to cry.

* * *

 

He let go of her, if only for a moment. With effort, she managed to roll onto her back, to sit. And her hand slid over the barn wall, grasping for purchase, for a knot in the boards, to pull herself up…

She stood then, leaned against the wall for support, though it took all the strength she had left.

But he was looming over her again, gloating at her tattered shirt, her frailty. And then his lips curled in a smirk. "You just don't quit, do you?"

She knew that look...knew, as well, what it meant. He wanted to see her suffer, to make her watch as he burned her family to death. He was going to enjoy it.

She saw him tip the lighter forward, scarcely an inch from the barn, the boards soaked in gasoline…

"No! You can't!" She threw herself at him, furiously, but he only laughed, clutching her wrist, holding her back as she tried to stop him.

His eyes were crazed, murderous, reflecting the fire in his hand. "You choose," he said. "You or the barn, hmm?"

* * *

 

_Violet…_ It had been her, he was sure of it. Her scream. The sound ripped through him like gunfire, crushing him, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Klaus searched his mind for something, anything, acutely aware that each second of delay cost her dearly. _And Sunny…_ A fierce, staggering heartache surged in him again. _I've failed them._ This was his greatest fear, worse than death or any torment fate could devise. In his head, he imagined the struggle, saw his girls beaten and shot, felt each blow and bullet as if his own body were the target instead. He wanted it to be.

They were his reason for being, his sisters, his one certainty in an inconstant world. If they had to confront the abyss, the nightmare, he would face it with them. If he had to trade his life to save them, he would. _But none of that matters if I can't help… if I'm stuck in here._

As he had at the base of that tower not so long ago, he asked himself _What would Violet do?_   She'd been with him, if only in his thoughts...

And then it struck him. The straw bales in the hayloft…they were too heavy for the lone, rickety ladder to support. _They would have to be hoisted up. Whoever did that probably used a rope, and a winch…If it's still in there…_ He climbed the ladder, as quickly as he could, ran his hand along the floor… _Yes!_ With a brief rush of triumph, he found it, found the rope, just as he'd predicted.

He studied the rafters for a moment, glanced at the broken boards in the west wall, as if he could gauge the distance between them with his eyes. _Violet could do it._ And then his gaze fell to a familiar spot on the floor below, barely visible.

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, the image of her, of Violet, lying beside him on the blanket… her body pressed tightly to his, bathed in the lantern light, all misty eyes and tousled hair, and warm, bare skin.

The rough, coiled twine scraped the cuts on his hands, stinging, but it was nothing to the way he hurt inside. He had to get out.

Another awful scream, and he felt it like a stab, a gaping hole in his chest. _It's a long shot, but it just might work…_ His eyes scanned over the wall once more. _There's no other way. I have to try._

* * *

 

"Me." She could feel her voice fading, even as she said it. "Take me."

She willed herself to be silent, to hold her screams inside as he made a burn on her shoulder, and then another. He could kill her, but she would not cower, would not beg for herself.

There was no point in trying to plead with him, no hope of mercy. He knew he was hurting her…that was his intention.

She felt his vile hand on her body, her skin, taking liberties that she'd never allowed anyone…no one but Klaus…

Broken sobs escaped her, and she shut her eyes, jerked her head away as he tried to bite her. "Whatsa matter sweetheart? You never been raped before?"

The sheer malevolence of it made her stomach turn.

His hand yanked at her hair, forcing her to look at him. "I'll be your first, huh? Won't I?" And he leaned in toward her ear, his voice deceptively calm. "We're gonna make this real special."

 


	20. Insanity

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, violence, language

* * *

 

Insanity

"We humans do, when the cause is sufficient, spend our lives. We throw ourselves onto the grenade to save our buddies in the foxhole. We rise out of the trenches and charge the entrenched enemy and die like maggots under a blowtorch…We are, when the cause is sufficient, insane."

~Orson Scott Card

* * *

 

He was pinning her to the wall, groping at her body, and Violet screamed in helpless fury as he pushed himself against her. "You wanna say goodbye, don't you?" He snorted, breath like rancid heat on her face. "Don't you!"

She blinked back tears, steeling herself. "You know I do."

"Too bad."

She could see the fire again, his hand flicking the lighter toward the wall, and she was frantic now. "You said you'd take me instead. You have to take me!"

He shook her violently, slamming her head back. "I don't have to do anything! I'll take what I want!" And he gripped her wrists together in his hand. "It's time for them to die now."

"No!" She fell into him suddenly, into his free arm, shoved it against his pant leg. The lighter grazed him and he threw her down, shrieking, his gas-spattered clothes catching fire.

Violet lay still, heard him yell and curse as he tried to extinguish the flames with his bare hands. _It won't work, not with the accelerant…_

She caught sight of a flash, out of the corner of her eye…something on the ground near her. _The gun._

It was there, where he'd discarded it, little more than a foot away. Her heart leapt against her ribs.

She could hear his pained, heavy breathing, a splash as he threw himself into the water trough, but she scarcely even noticed. Her only thought was that she had to move, to drag herself forward…

She winced at the protest in her injuries, the fierce sting rippling through her. And then she felt it, the cool, smooth shape of the weapon in her hands.

He was out of the trough now, turning on her in a rage, and she aimed for the center of his chest, blood pounding as she squeezed the trigger…

Click… click… click…

The chamber was empty. _Of course…he wouldn't have left it…_ She felt herself wither inside.

He grabbed her roughly from behind, his hand clamped around her throat.

"Is that how you want to play?" He held up the lighter again, close, too close to the barn…

Before she could even blink, he'd done it, he'd set the east wall ablaze, flames snaking up the wooden planks like trails of lightning.

_No…_

She sagged against him, broken, as if her heart had been torn from her body. _They're gone… they can't be gone…_

Her brother and sister… everything she'd loved and trusted and tried to hold on to.

She would never see them again.

_Gone…_

Her eyes shut tight against it, the fire, and the rabid, panting breath on her neck. She could almost feel her brother's arms around her, could almost see his face again… _I can't be the last one…_

A mocking laugh resounded in her ears, invading her memories… all that remained to her….

"What're you waiting for?" His voice was a scrape, a harsh, grating sound. "Say goodbye."

* * *

 

She was screaming. Klaus could hear it, piercing through the rank, smoky darkness, and he thought it would kill him. Hurriedly, he tossed the rope over a nearby rafter, and he took hold of both ends, glanced at the opening in the west side of the barn again. _I should be able to break through, if I can hit the boards with enough momentum…If the rope will reach that far…_ He pushed the doubts from his mind. _There's no time._

He was about to swing away from the hayloft, to crash head-on into the wall, when he felt himself bristle, thorns prickling the back of his neck. There had been something…a clank… _What was that?_

* * *

 

She slipped in an out of consciousness, half aware of the field grass under her feet, the hands wrenching at her clothing, hauling her away… Away from them…There was no one left to fight for, no reason to try.

Her screams diminished into desolate sobs…so much pain…She wanted it to end, wanted to die, and she knew he had barely begun.

From somewhere far off, she could hear her name, a voice calling to her. Had she imagined it?

She didn't see Gerard turn his head toward the sound, only to be met with a hail of flying rocks, a fistful of dirt in his eyes. There was only a hard fall, the sharp stab of pain as he dropped her, as he brought his arms up in a futile effort to shield his face.

And then there was nothing. The brutal grip, the weight and grasping hands…all had vanished. _Am I dead…No…_ She stirred, and her body ached with even the small movement. _Still hurts._

She opened her eyes. _Klaus…_

He was there, flinging Gerard into the ground… her good natured, scholarly, brother, with murder in his eyes.

She looked on in shock as Klaus knocked him over the head with the pitchfork handle, as he stabbed him in the side, drawing blood.

Gerard lashed out with his fists, but Klaus ducked and dodged, with a speed her assailant could not match.

Another rock hit him in the back, then another and another.

And she didn't miss the look on his face, the pure astonishment, confusion, and something else, something akin to panic. Too late, he'd realized that his own superior weight and strength would prove no advantage now; he'd been caught unawares- wholly unprepared for the furious onslaught that seemed to come at him from every direction.

Violet tried to sit up, followed the trajectory of the rocks with her eyes. _Where's Sunny? She can't be…_ Fear gave way to an overwhelming relief when she saw her little sister. They were here, her family, covered in dust and soot, but whole and alive. _But how?_

Her gaze shifted back to Gerard. She had to help them, if only she could stay awake…

"Violet!" Sunny ran to her side.

Violet squeezed the little girl's hand, struggling to keep her eyes open. "You're not hurt?"

She shook her head. "I got him with the rocks. Should I call the sheriff now?"

Violet slipped her arms around her sister, pulled her close. They needed to find a phone, needed the police. _But that deputy didn't believe us before. No one believes us..._ In any case, Sunny would have to dart past Gerard to get to the house. _I can't let her…_

She could feel his empty eyes on her, glaring, as if he would lunge at her again. But her brother blocked them, shielding her with his body.

He redoubled his hold on the pitchfork. "Stay away from her!"

Gerard backed off slightly, as if to regain his bearings. "She was asking for it." He gave a sardonic laugh, blood dripping from the gash on his face, from his abdomen. "She likes me better."

 _Better?_ Klaus fought the urge to glance at his sisters, stark horror ripping through him. _He knows…he knows that Violet and I…_

There was no time to think. The bastard was advancing, wielding the lighter like a weapon. "Give it up," he snorted through clenched teeth. "You don't want to be in my way."

He swung again and again with the fire, with skull-crushing blows, but Klaus sidestepped him quickly, spearing his back. And a single kick sent him sprawling in the dirt.

Klaus stood above him, the man who'd attacked his sister, breathing hard, his shoulders set. "You're wrong," he said. "That's exactly where I want to be."

Violet's screams echoed like agony in his head. His blood boiled, his insides burning, as if some primitive impulse had overtaken him. Gerard was bigger than he was, stronger by far. He didn't know how he'd gained the upper hand, only knew that he felt like a force of nature, indomitable and merciless. His eyes fixed on the heinous coward who'd hurt Violet so terribly, his world narrowed to this moment, this man.

And, even now, his memory served him well.

One more stab, one drive into the bastard's stomach, skewering him, and it would be finished. He could end this, could end him. He had to. _We'll never be safe, not while he's alive…we'll never be safe…_

And then the barn exploded.

Burning planks fell all around them, smoke and maniacal laughter. Klaus was knocked flat by the force of the blast. He staggered to his feet within seconds, scanned the moonlit yard, but he couldn't see Gerard.

He barely had time to curse inside his head. There was another boom, like thunder, and he fell beside his sisters. Violet was already half covering Sunny, and he curled himself over them, tried to protect them as a hail of fiery rubble crashed down.

Everything was smoke and heat and raging flames. And silence. Dead silence, but for the slight crackle of smoldering lumber. Minutes passed before he opened his eyes again.

Violet's hand closed around his. "Is it over?" He thought he'd never hear anything so beautiful as the sound of her voice.

"I don't know…I think so." He clutched her fingers, never wanted to let go of her. "Vi, are you..." He meant to ask if she was okay, but the word formed a lump in his throat when he saw the extent of her injuries.

She touched his face then, to feel him, to run her hand through his hair. "I will be," she said. "When we get out of here."

He swallowed hard. "We can't, Vi. We have to get you back to the house. You need a doctor."

Her eyes dimmed then. "Where is he?"

Klaus tightened his grip on her hand, hugging Sunny to him with his other arm. "Gerard's gone." She could see the guilt in him, the anger, even as he spoke. "It's my fault. I let him get away."

She kissed the side of his brow, laid her head against his, to let him know that it didn't matter. He and Sunny were alive, they were all alive... and he'd saved her. If only her eyes weren't so heavy…

"Vi!" He caught her as she swayed backward, as she collapsed. "Violet, no!"

"Don't fall asleep!" Sunny's voice reached her, as if through a long tunnel. "Violet!"

She wanted to stay with them…she _wanted_ to…But she was in his arms and she felt so safe, so tired. If she could just rest here, just for a moment…

Her eyes lost focus, the colors blending, fading into one another. And everything went dark.


	21. He Knows

Disclaimer: standard.

Warning: incest, sexual content

* * *

 

 

He Knows

"Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage. Courage is the most desperate, admirable and noble kind of love."

~Delmore Schwartz

* * *

 

Klaus sat on the floor in the old sewing room, alongside the lower bunk where Violet lay, unconscious. His hand curved around hers lightly, staying clear of the bruises on her wrists and arms. He didn't want to hurt her. More than anything, he didn't want to hurt her. But he couldn't let go.

He leaned into the side of the bed, with Sunny curled up on his lap, calm and sleepy.

Her tiny hands held onto the folds of his shirt, as if she were afraid to fall asleep, to lose him. _She is so small._ He patted her back gently. So small, and yet he owed his life to her…to both of them, really. Memories gripped at him with icy fingers, a web coiling around his heart. _It's not the first time._

Violet turned her head, murmured something in her sleep. He looked to her then, taking in her shuttered eyes, the white sheet-bandage on her leg, the burns and bite marks that made his skin tight with anger.

He'd examined the gunshot wound as carefully as he could, relived beyond words that it had missed her major arteries. _A few more inches to the left, and she would've…_ His throat felt dry, and he shut his eyes. _Exsanguination._ The term spiraled in his mind, despite his efforts to silence it _. She would've bled out._

The bullet had hit the outside of her leg, with less damage than he'd initially thought. But he didn't doubt that she was in pain.

With everything he'd read, everything he could remember, he'd done his best to tend to her injuries, to make her comfortable. He raised her hand to his face, held it against him, reassured by the smooth, even cadence of her heartbeat, her steady breathing. She was alive, and she would be alright. She had to be alright.

He kissed the back of her fingers, momentarily forgetting his own red-stained hands, the makeshift bandages he wore. He'd been nearly paralyzed with fear when she lost consciousness, but now he was almost thankful for it.

Mercifully, she hadn't stirred when he'd cleaned the blood and dust away, when he'd used sugar and a bottle of brandy from Ethie's pantry to treat her leg wound. _Sugar speeds healing… She might not even need stitches, as long as there's no infection. I couldn't have done this much if she were awake._

There was an ache in his chest, in his blood, so fierce that it wracked him. _Violet_. He still heard her screams when he closed his eyes.

She'd been shot and burned and beaten, shattered into pieces thinking they were dead, and he couldn't do it, couldn't cause her anymore pain. Even now, to see her like this was almost more than he could bear.

He studied her again, his mind searching for remedies, for something else to help her. _Black tea is good for burns. If we have tea bags, I could make a poultice._

Rain fell against the roof, wind humming in the windowpanes in the height of another storm. _At least we don't have to worry about the fire._ He felt her shiver then. _She's cold._

He'd stripped off her clothes to see to her injuries, and he'd wrapped her in blankets afterward, afraid to touch her, to move her.

He wondered if he should look for her nightgown, and he glanced to their suitcase in the corner of the room, by the door. A moment passed, and he decided against it. _There's another quilt in the armoire._

Gently, he extricated himself from Violet's hand. And he lifted Sunny onto the top bunk, pulled the blankets up to cover her, glad that she was resting, she and Violet were resting, even if he couldn't. His eyes darted to the window, the drawn curtains. There was a loud whirring, like the sound of a motor running. _It's only the wind…or is it?_

He went to armoire at the far wall, mere steps away from the bunk bed…. too far for his liking. The hinges creaked as he turned the handle, as he opened it.

"No, no, please…You can't…Klaus!"

In an instant, he was back at her side, hauling the quilt with him, and he took her hand. "Vi, it's okay. It's okay, I'm here."

He could feel the anguish, the raw fear as she clutched the bedclothes in her fist, clutched at him. She was crying, harsh, labored sobs that broke his heart, and he wanted to explain, to tell her that he wouldn't leave. But she hadn't opened her eyes. _Another nightmare._ He sighed inwardly, wondering if she'd ever sleep through the night again. _Will any of us?_

He ran a hand over her face, tracing the curve of her ear, the fine line of her cheekbone. His Violet.

The soft touches seemed to calm her somehow.

He adored Sunny to no end, loved her, and looked after her, and protected her. But she was a sister and only a sister. With Violet, it was heartache, a different kind of love, warmth and reverence and longing, and everything else in between. He belonged to her, belonged with her, as surely as he knew how to read. She was the other half of him.

 _No_ , he corrected himself, as he remembered the helplessness, the acute pain, like being ripped apart. There was no life without her, nothing but a hollow void inside of him, an empty space. _Maybe I'm the other half of her_.

He couldn't separate those aspects, one from another, any more than he could stop loving her. She'd been his strength, always, and she needed him now. He wouldn't let the nightmares take her again.

He touched his lips to the few, unscathed places on her forehead, the bridge of her nose, softly. And then he kissed her mouth.

She reached out for him, her hands possessive on his shoulder, in his hair. Breath and heat and strong, safe arms, and her body knew him, knew that it was him, even if her mind was far away.

"Klaus…" He felt her voice before he heard it, a soft sigh against his neck.

"I'm here," he said, unsure of whether he'd woken her or become a part of her dream. "I'm right here."

Green eyes fluttered open slightly, holding his before they squinted shut again. Her head throbbed, the room spinning around her. "Where's Sunny?"

"The top bunk," he nodded upward, toward their sleeping little sister. Violet made to leave the bed, to sit, but she felt his hand on her shoulder. "She's okay, Vi. You shouldn't move around too much."

She sighed then, sinking back into the pillows. "I thought you weren't real." Her voice sent a pang through him. "I thought you were…that he'd..."

The words faded, dying on her lips as he kissed her, his warmth flooding her senses. Her fingers curled in his hair, clutching him, and he wanted to steal the fear and pain, to pour his love into her until she couldn't feel anything else.

She wouldn't let him go, wouldn't let him come up for air. But he didn't need to, only needed her mouth against his, her breath in his lungs.

She guided him, a soft, contented sigh as his thumb brushed the underside of her breast, the smooth, bare skin…

His head cleared in an instant. He hadn't meant to do this, to take advantage of her trauma and exhaustion. _I just wanted to stop the nightmares._ But it had turned into something else entirely.

"Vi…" He took her hand in one of his, the pad of his thumb making circles on her palm. "You're hurt. We can't do this now."

"Please." Her eyes were wet, her voice desperate and aching. ""Make him go away, Klaus. Just make him go."

He could see the pall come over her again, and she was shaking, cold and weary and so, so alone. She was trying to hide the pain, to be brave, but a few, errant tears slipped down her the side of her cheek.

He laid his hand against her then, against her heart, infinitely gentle, and she held it there. The softness in her eyes made him ache inside.

She was amazing. After everything she'd been through, after all the men who'd hurt her, she still wanted to..."How can you even look at me?"

"It's different with you," she said. "I love you."

He brought her hand to his chest then. Her eyes grew wide as she felt the beat under her fingers… one life inside another, and she couldn't tell where hers ended and where his began…

She loved his hands, so warm, so careful as he touched her. A ghost of a kiss on her neck, her nipples between his fingertips, and her mind was gone, lost in the smooth, fluid harmony of their bodies.

His mouth was there, on her shoulder, on her breasts, whisper-light kisses, lapping softly, taking all.

And her breath hitched as he swept kisses to her stomach, avoiding the bruises, then the back of her knee, her leg, to where his fingers disappeared inside of her...

He kissed her the way he kissed her mouth, long and slow and tender, so thoroughly that she nearly fainted again. A single thought reached her through the warm, dizzy pleasure swirling in her blood… _He is memorizing me…_ She rocked her hips slightly, unconsciously, straining toward him. And she felt the waves crashing inside of her, a stream of light, the brush of his hair on her skin as he burrowed deeper. _Klaus..._

Time meant nothing, the world meant nothing, and later on, he never would remember just how long he stayed. There was only the perfect quiet, neither of them daring to make a sound, her scent all around him, drowning him. And he wanted her, always, he wanted her…

He held her afterward, gingerly, as she settled in close to him. Her eyes were veiled in shadows, purple bruises forming on her neck and shoulders. And he knew, with the persistent ache of memory, that more were concealed beneath the blankets. _She fought so hard._

Her forehead rested against his, and he draped an arm around her waist, let his eyes slip shut for a moment.

She traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. "How did you get out of there?"

"It was Sunny." His hand wrapped around hers, deftly, careful for her injuries. "And you. You told me about the loose boards. If you hadn't…" He glanced aside then. "I…We made a hole in the west wall. It was big enough for Sunny. I told her to run to the house, but she didn't. She found the key somehow. She let me out."

A soft smile glanced across her face. "She's fearless, isn't she?"

"She learned that from you."

She kissed the underside of his chin, nuzzled her face into his neck. And the morning came back in a rush. She closed her eyes then, delicate features masked in pain. "We didn't get the animals out."

"No." He spoke into her hair. "They were already dead, Vi. He slaughtered them, and then he planted a smoke bomb. It was all a ruse."

"He wanted me. He meant to kill you and Sunny, and keep me."

He felt it again, like a kick in the stomach, like a stab, burning and twisting. And he drew a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her hair, her skin, but it was still there-the urge to fight for her.

"The phones aren't working. I don't know if it's because of the rain or-"

"Or Gerard," she finished softly. "He might've cut the lines." It didn't matter, really. They had no link to the outside world, and no way to call for help. "He dropped the key. He had a gun." Her gaze was cloudy, unfocused, and she stared straight ahead, without seeing. "He said no one would come for me… And then you came."

He pressed another kiss into her hair. "He's a coward, Vi. He had to separate us, because he was afraid…he didn't want to face the three of us together."

She smiled wryly, through her tears. "Where have I heard that before?"

"He's probably not in the army, either. I've read three books on combat training. If he really were a soldier, I don't think I could've beaten him."

"But you did…you did beat him." She laid her free hand against his face, his tired, red-rimmed eyes reminding her that he had suffered too. "You were so strong."

"No," he told her. " _We_ did it. We're strong together."

"What did Ethie say?"

"She just asked me about Gerard, whether or not he was in the barn when it…when it burned." She felt her brother sigh, his lean, bare arm taut around her. "I tried to tell her what happened, but she didn't want to hear it. She went for the police and the doctor."

An image flashed in front of her, pieces of words she didn't want to remember. "Klaus, he knows about us."

"Yeah," She felt him wince, and she didn't have to see his face to know that he remembered. "He was probably spying on us in the barn…when the door opened. It was him."

"What if the police find him, and he tells them, Klaus? What'll we do?"

"I don't think he has any proof, Vi. We'll just deny it," he said. "It'll be our word against his."

"And if they listen to him?"

"They won't. The deputy thought I was lying because he assumed that Gerard wasn't here. If they find him, they'll see that I was telling the truth. They'll believe us." _And if they don't, I'll tell them it's my fault…that I forced her._

The thought made him sick. Those few, stolen moments were sacred, meant for the two of them alone. Gerard had destroyed their sanctuary, in more ways than one, tainting the beautiful things they'd shared. And a sudden realization came over him. _He wanted his sister, too…he thinks we're the same, he and I…Only I didn't…I wouldn't…_

"Klaus, there's more," her voice pulled him from his thoughts. "He heard you, when you shouted my name. My _real_ name. And then he said he knew me." She shifted onto her back, to look at him.

His jaw clenched, with more than a hint of anger, his hand a fist at her side. "I'm sorry, Vi. I didn't think…" He searched her face for any sign of condemnation, ashamed at himself, lost for words.

Lithe, slender fingers slid across his mouth, and she smiled as he caught them in his hand, as he kissed them. "It isn't your fault. He already knew. He called me Violet Baudelaire." Her eyes met his then, deep and troubled. "How could he know that, Klaus?"


	22. To Catch a Killer

Disclaimer: standard.

Warning: incest, implied violence

* * *

 

To Catch a Killer 

"Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive." ~ Josephine Hart

* * *

 

Klaus couldn't look away, couldn't even blink as his eyes locked with hers. He felt nauseous, a hard tension coiling in the pit of his stomach. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know, Vi. Maybe he overheard it. Maybe it doesn't mean anything."

Traces of hope still lingered, like memories of people long gone, and he didn't want to see the light fade in her eyes. But the stiff, hardened line of his shoulders belied any reassurances he might offer, and he knew it. She would see right through them.

She shook her head. "You don't believe that any more than I do."

He only sighed, gathered her close again, and Violet pressed her face into his chest.

She could smell the rain on him, mingled with a hint of soap. But smoke clung to his white undershirt and his hair, a remnant of the horror and devastation, the evil that she'd forever associate with fire. She hated smoke, hated it like dead bones and dark caves and wedding dresses…like the man who'd turned them into orphans in the first place.

But his hands were in her hair, drawing patterns on her back, and she could still feel the singing inside of her, a low hum under her skin.

This was Klaus, her Klaus, closer than the air around her, strong and sure. On him, the smoke conjured thoughts of where they'd been, of all the trials they'd seen each other through. She wanted to breathe him in, to be enveloped in the scent of his body, the firm, solid weight of him. And she was not afraid.

When he held her like this, she forgot about the murders, forgot that they'd escaped a brutal, violent death when so many others had not. And she couldn't bring herself to think on Gerard, or gunshots and crackling fires, or the secrets that weighed on her like a leaden rucksack.

She barely felt the pain anymore, only the circling of warmth of his hands, his heartbeat. And she closed her eyes. There was no sense in looking backward or ahead now. The world would come for them again soon enough.

Minutes lapsed into hours, or perhaps they were only the sort of minutes that seem like hours, and she lifted her head once more. She was still there, warm among the blankets, in his arms.

Her brother's eyes were trained on the door, unwavering, and she followed them. _He's been on guard all this time…_ "Klaus, I'm sorry."

"For what?" He kissed the top of her head. "You're not the one to blame, Vi. He is."

"I fell asleep, and you've been keeping watch."

"You needed it more," he sighed, and she heard the fatigue in his voice. "Ethie's still out there somewhere. If the roads flooded, she could be stuck in town."

"You think he might come back before she does," her voice was strained.

"He went to a lot of trouble, Vi… sneaking around, spying on us. He must've been planning it for awhile." A beat passed before he spoke again. "I don't think he'll give up so easily."

"It's not over." She shut her eyes, her head tucked in against his shoulder. "It'll never be over for us."

His heart sank in his chest. _She's right._ But he pushed the fear to the back of his mind. "We stopped him once," he told her, with more confidence than he felt. "We can do it again."And he brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I'd better find you something to wear."

He laid her aside carefully, getting up from the bed. The blankets slipped down as she turned toward him, and he pulled them back up, to cover her shoulders.

"Klaus?" She asked softly.

"Yeah?"He rummaged through the suitcase until he found her nightdress.

"How long has she been gone?"

"An hour or two, I guess."

The room seemed colder, a frigid draft in the air. And the questions hovered silently around them. _What if she doesn't come back? What if she can't come? What if he…_

There was nothing, only raindrops on the glass panes, when he pushed the curtain back to peer outside. Streams of water coursed along the ground, pock-marked with the charred, scattered pieces of the barn. It looked like a war zone.

Part of him wanted to believe that they'd seen the last of Gerard. _But if he's gone for good…_

He could feel Violet's eyes on him, studying him.

"Klaus, there's something you're not telling me."

He went to sit beside her on the bed, and he took her hand. "She blames me, Vi… for the barn and…for what happened to you…" He swallowed hard. "She wants to have me arrested." Her eyes were wide, stricken. "If the police don't find him, they'll think I did it. They'll pin it all on me."

"They can't," she said. "I won't let them. We'll prove that he killed his sister."

"With what?" He sighed. "Some pictures and a charm bracelet? I don't think so."

"We'll lead them to the cave."

"Our evidence only proves that she's dead, Vi. We can't prove that he's the one who did it."

"Klaus, we have to try."There might be something in the house…in his room. "

She felt him draw a deep breath then. "I had a book about a serial killer. He took things from the people he killed…tokens…so he'd remember." He squeezed her fingers. "Maybe Gerard did, too."

"Even if he didn't, there are other ways, Klaus." She sat up as he helped her into the nightgown, his hands smoothing it down over her waist, her hips and legs. "We could set a trap for him."

He felt a catch in his throat, foreseeing her plan. "We're not using you as bait."

"You said it yourself. He won't give up so easily. Don't you think he's watching the house right now?" Her hand latched onto his arm. "We can use that to our advantage, don't you see? We'll trick him… make him think that I'm here alone. He'll come."

"Violet…"His thumb brushed against the side of her face, his voice rough like gravel. "I know what you did for us," he said. "I won't let him touch you again."

Her mouth was soft at his jawline, seeking his, and he opened her lips in a lingering kiss, a shuddering sigh as he swept his tongue across hers. Sweet, ragged breaths, her body slight and supple in his arms… It was all he could do to keep from crushing her against him.

"Don't ever leave me, Violet. Please, don't leave me."

"Never," her hands fisted in the back of his shirt. "Never, never…There' s nothing we can't survive, if we have each other."

They clung together until it hurt to breathe, her forehead on his shoulder. And she felt strong, in spite of her injuries…unbroken. "I can do it," she said. "We can do it."

"It's too dangerous, Vi." His fingers slid across her knee, absently. " That's why we ran away from the VFD, so we wouldn't have to-"

"I know. I wouldn't do it for them, Klaus." She leaned back in his arms then, her eyes alight, so beautiful… "I'll do it for you."

They heard sounds in the bed above, a squeak and groan in the wood. Sunny was awake.

"Hey, little missus." Klaus lifted her down from the ladder, and she hugged him hard, clinging.

Her eyes were bleary from sleep, but she perked up instantly when he brought her to the lower bunk. "Violet!"

Violet ran a hand over her sister's hair as she cuddled in between them on the bed.

"I didn't want to go to sleep. I wanted you to wake up," Sunny told her.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sunny." Violet kissed her forehead. "I'll be alright." She lifted her eyes to her brother then, the soft, smoldering gaze that she reserved for him alone. "I'm not broken."

The little girl drifted off once more, exhausted, and Violet laid her head on the pillow beside him, her hand clasped in his.

"You're not broken," he agreed softly. "You're the bravest person I've ever seen."

Tears threatened again, a rising tide, but now she was about to cry for all she felt. This was her life, this man, this child, and she didn't need blind optimism or faith in unseen things. Only life was precious, only her family, and they would hold fast to one another, whatever the cost.

"Well," she said. "You should look in the mirror sometime."

 


	23. One of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was a big sister, a mother really, and her life was not entirely her own. We can't leave Sunny all alone. One of us has to survive.

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, sexual content

* * *

 

 

One of Us

"As brother and sister, we go together or we stop."

~ _A Far Off Place_

"So dear I love him that with him all deaths I could endure, without him live no life."

~ _Paradise Lost_

* * *

 

Nearly half a day had passed before Klaus finally went to check the house, ensuring that Sunny locked the bedroom door behind him, just in case. He made a cursory search of Ethie's room then, her bookshelves, and under her bed. There, behind the low-hanging quilt was a small, cardboard box. He pulled it out, coughing slightly from the dust, and he opened it.

 _What?_ For a moment, he couldn't believe his eyes. Ethie had a box of bullets hidden under her bed.

Five, to be exact. He held one up to study it. _For a small-caliber handgun._.. _but where is it?_ _Where's the gun? If Gerard used it to…to shoot Violet…_ He closed his eyes to block out the picture in his head, the surge of anger. _Did Ethie know ahead of time? Did she set us up? What if she is working with…No._

He forced himself to stop thinking, stop obsessing over the possibilities. There were endless doubts, more and more questions, and no answers forthcoming. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

The house was silent, almost too quiet as he glanced over the front room and the kitchen, as he tried the phone once more, without luck. He couldn't hear a thing, not so much as a hint of the wind outside.

He wondered at the whirring sound again. _It could've been a car. Why didn't I use the spyglass?_ And then he shook his head at himself. _He can't be in the house… I would've heard him. The porch steps creak, and there' s no other way in_. His chest felt tight, the air like exhaust fumes in his lungs. _No other way that we know of..._

He knew the house well enough by now. He could see it in his mind, room by room. If there were another way inside, it could only be in one place. The one they all avoided, so as not to upset Ethie. The one he'd never given much thought to before. It held no interest for him, not like the study in Aunt Josephine's old home, packed with photographs, and notes, and all the deadly secrets Ike had uncovered.

But now…

There were shadows at the end of the hallway, a closed door to his right. He tried to turn the handle, but the door wouldn't budge.

 _He locked it._ Violet could get in, he had no doubt of that, but he hated to ask her, to put her in jeopardy again . _We did some damage, but he was still strong enough to run away._ He felt a churning in his stomach. _We're not ready. If he comes back..._ Just thinking of it made him want to die or kill or give in to the red, seething rage and punch a hole in the wall. He'd seen too much darkness, too much cruelty, and he couldn't forget…

Her voice flickered through him then, the memory of her touch, burned into the cells of his body. She was always there. _How do you do it, Klaus? How do you live with the memories?_

He lived for her, for her and Sunny, just as she lived for the two of them, and he couldn't be hauled off to jail. Not now, not with predators circling around his family like so many vultures. He had to stay free, to keep them alive and safe, even if it meant breaking down the door himself.

The wooden flooring creaked under his weight, and his eyes fell from the doorframe to the floorboard… the planks and beams they'd found in the barn…It was all so similar. _Ethie said she didn't know anything about those boards, before we asked her…She let use them for the bunk bed…_ His mind was spinning, a blur of scenes and images in quick succession… _Gerard knew about the cavern. He left his sister in there. Who knows, maybe he even built it._ That strange, bunker-like room in the ground, the tunnel that Sunny had stumbled upon… _There were planks over it. She broke through them. It can't be a coincidence._

Another thought seared through him, made him step backward. _If that tunnel leads to the house…to Gerard's room…_ He darted down the hall, to the kitchen, pulled a sharp knife from the nearest drawer. _He could be in there now._

* * *

 

"Sunny, I need you to help me with this." Violet had dragged herself out of bed to tinker with the old sewing machine, but she couldn't lift it from the table, couldn't even stand without leaning on the wall for support.

"You said we were going to make a trap." Sunny rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Why do you want to sew?"

"I don't." Violet found that she was out of breath, exhausted from the effort it took to move across the room. "I just…I need to make a few modifications." She examined the side of the machine, the large, wide, screws holding it together.

Sunny was standing with her then. "It doesn't even work," she said. "How can we use it?"

"We'll see."

With her sister's aid, she managed to pull the machine to the edge of the table, and ease it to the floor. "Will you bring me a dime, Sunny?"

"Why?" The little girl wanted to know.

"Because we're going turn this into something we can use."

Klaus found Violet sitting on the floor, tinkering with the sewing machine, when he raced back to their room. She'd taken it from the table in the corner, and now she was taking it apart…

"Violet! You're supposed to be resting."

"And you're supposed to be searching for evidence." She didn't look up, eyes set on the part she was trying to dislodge. "I'm alright, Klaus."

He glanced down at the bandages on her leg, the blood starting to soak through. "You're still bleeding, Vi. You shouldn't be up."

"Help me finish this. I'll rest when were done."

"She's modifying it," Sunny said, retrieving a coin from the small stash in their suitcase. "I'm helping too."

Violet smiled her thanks as Sunny handed it to her. The dime's narrow edge would make a passable screwdriver.

"I don't want you to do this." She felt his hand on her shoulder, the brush of his lips on the back of her neck. He was kneeling behind her. "I don't want to set a trap for him. It won't work."

"Klaus, how can you say that? You'll be arrested if we don't-"

"Only if they find me." He kept his voice low, in case anyone outside the room should overhear them. "That tunnel you saw in the cavern…I think it leads back here. There's too much we don't know."

"Did you find anything in his room? Did you find a tunnel?

"No," he admitted. "The door's locked."

"I'll open it. If there is a tunnel, it's all the proof we'll need."

"The storm cellar!" Sunny's voice startled them both. "There's a storm cellar in his room."

His canny little sister. She never ceased to astound him. "How do you know that, Sunny?"

"I heard them talking in the hall, when you were in the kitchen." She shrugged. "I didn't think it was important."

"What did he say?"

"He asked if anyone had been in there, and she said 'No.' "

"That does it," he said. "We should all go, now. We can be gone before the police arrive."

He felt Violet's hand on his arm, a white-knuckled grip. "Where can we go? Into town? It must be at least twenty miles." Her voice was firm, in the way that told him there was no use in arguing. "He'll be hunting us, Klaus. He knows this area better than we do. And if he doesn't catch up with us, the police will. We can't go into town."

"We can't stay here, Vi." He sat beside her, his arm supportive at her waist. "He could be in there now, and we don't have anything to fight him with, except a pitchfork and a kitchen knife."

It was only then that she noticed the farm implement, on the floor between their suitcase and the wall. He'd brought it along, for good measure. _But Gerard had a gun, who's to say he doesn't have others?_ A pitchfork and a knife...it wouldn't be enough to stop him.

"I know," she said. "That's why we need this." She gestured at the dismantled sewing machine. "It's motorized, Klaus. I think I can make it into some sort of weapon."

"We don't have time. If Ethie's helping him, then she probably didn't go to the police."He held out the box then. "I found these under her bed."

Violet flipped back the lid, and she felt Sunny behind her, peering over her shoulder.

 _Bullets_. She froze then, paralyzed, as if she were going into shock. "It's hers, isn't it? The gun belongs to her." _The gun that he used to…_ She shut her eyes, grateful for her brother, for his strength, his steadying arm around her waist.

"I don't know." The words tasted like cod liver oil every time he said them. "I didn't find another gun in there. It can't be a coincidence, Vi."

"If we had his gun and a…a microscope, then I could test it. If the ridges on the bullets match…"

"Um…"Sunny cleared her throat slightly, and they both looked to her. She reached under the lower bunk, pulled out something, wrapped in a slip of fabric Violet recognized from the sewing bin.

"You said 'no one will believe us, unless we have evidence'." Sunny held it out to her brother. "Don't be angry."

Klaus took it from her, gingerly, moved the fabric aside, although he already had a sneaking suspicion... _The gun._

His eyes settled on his little sister. "I'm not angry," he told her. "You were right, Sunny. I didn't think of it."

"That's what I'm here for," she said.

Violet pulled her back then, away from the weapon. "I don't want you handling guns, Sunny."

"But I had to bring it in."

"I know," Violet sighed. "It's alright, this one time. We needed it." And she hugged her. "You're a great help. Just promise me you won't ever do it again."

"I promise." She almost sounded reluctant.

They watched as their brother picked up one of the bullets he'd found, and he opened the ammunition chamber on the gun, to see if it would fit. _A perfect match._

He shared an uneasy glance with Violet then. All the blood had drained from her face. "Do you think she gave it to him, Klaus? Do you think she knew all along?"

"She didn't look too surprised when he showed up," he said, remembering their own shock at Gerard's sudden arrival. "And she ignored what he was doing. She tried to manipulate things, so that…so you'd have to…" He could feel a lump forming in his throat again. "She's helping him, Vi."

"We can't be sure of that."

"If she doesn't know what he's up to, then she's blind." He felt her sigh, her body so fragile, so tired, and he slid both arms around her.

"You're right, Klaus. We can't do this. If we have to watch the house on two fronts, and he's not working alone…" She pushed the sewing machine parts away with one hand . "This won't do us any good."

"It won't do us any good to find the tunnel either, if the police aren't coming. We have to go to them."

She glanced aside then, her eyes downcast. "I can't walk."

"I know," he said softly. "It's okay, Vi. I'll carry you."

"We'll never make it if you have to carry me."

"Hey," he tilted her head back gently. "I got you in here, didn't I?" She didn't answer, only leaned into his shoulder. "I didn't want to move you, but we have no choice."

"Yes, we do," her voice was stilted, little more than a breath. "You and Sunny do."

He pressed a kiss into her hair. "If we go, we go together."

"Klaus…"

"We need to eat," Sunny interrupted her then. "I'll make something good, then you'll feel better."

Violet was almost glad for the diversion. "Thanks, Sunny, but I don't think I could. Why don't you two go out and find something to eat?" She gave her brother a soft, half smile then. "I'll be fine."

He thought of her shoulder again. "I'll look for some black tea. It'll help with the burns."

"What about Roderick?" Sunny jumped to her feet. "We haven't even fed him and-"

Neither of them said a word. It was awful, to see their baby sister hurting, to remind her of the day before. They both felt a violent, piercing stab at the look on her face, the memory rushing over her. There was nothing they could do.

Sunny crawled into her brother's lap, hid her face in his shirt. "He's dead." She was so tiny, her voice flat and distant, too old for a child of her age. "Why does everyone have to die?"

She didn't cry, didn't make another sound, as if she had no tears left. Her silence crushed him inside.

Violet felt her brother's eyes boring into her, a tortured glance between them.

"We won't let anyone die. We won't let anyone else die, Sunny." His voice was rough, almost gravelly. An echo of her own.

He wasn't the only one who remembered. _Nothing is fated…we'll make our own ending…_

And she caught a glimpse of his mind. Five bullets. Five shots. One gun… He didn't want it for evidence anymore.

* * *

 

Klaus took Sunny with him to the pantry, to distract her, locking the door again. But they couldn't find any black tea. He thought about fixing some food for Violet, but she hadn't wanted anything… None of them were hungry, their stomachs wrenched into knots.

With a heavy heart, and another wary glance down the hallway, he returned to the bedroom with Sunny.

She curled up on his lap once more, and her eyes slipped shut. It wasn't long before she'd fallen into another fitful sleep. He looked to Violet, more than a little worried. Sunny rarely napped in the daytime. _Only when she's been through an ordeal_ _..._

"Let her sleep," she said. "It won't do any good to wake her now."

He only nodded, before he tucked Sunny back into his bed on the top bunk.

Violet reached for him then, sitting up on the lower bunk, and he hunkered down beside her.

"How much time do you think we have?"

"Maybe an hour." Her smile was warm, and so beautiful. He couldn't resist as she pulled him in, kissing him with all her strength.

She tasted like brandy, lush and rich and…unfamiliar…

"Violet…" He pulled away then, and he looked for the bottle of brandy he'd left at the bedside. His eyes went wide in astonishment. "I was using that for a disinfectant," he said.

"It's also a painkiller, Klaus. I didn't drink much." She smiled again, but it seemed forced. And he didn't miss the vacant look in her eyes. "If this is our last day together, I don't want to waste it in pain."

He studied the half-empty bottle, and then her face, anxiety churning in him. "Don't say that. Violet, don't say that."

She raked her fingers lightly through his hair. "Take Sunny and go," she said. "Just get her away from here."

"No, Vi." He took hold of her hand, kissed the back of her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. "If you can't come with us, then we're all staying. I know she'd say the same thing."

"Klaus, you can avoid Gerard and the police. If Ethie told you the truth, they'll all be coming here."

She slipped down from the bed then, lowered herself to the floor with him, and he pulled her close."What if she's working with him, Vi?"

"At least I'll know that you and Sunny are safe. Nothing else matters."

He sighed then, hiding his face in her hair. "You matter," he said. "You matter to us. I won't go without you."

"If you stay, or if you try to carry me, we'll all be caught." He could feel her trembling. "It's your only chance. You have to go without me." He felt her lips on his neck, soft kisses as he sculpted her against him. "We might never do this again, and I…I want to be with you. Even if this is all we ever have…" She wilted then, distraught, her nails leaving tiny crescents in his shoulder.

Her voice was like a carving knife in his heart. _We might never do this again._

The thought tore into him, sharp and brutal, worse than any physical pain. He didn't know how she could stand it. And then he understood why she'd needed the brandy. _Liquid courage_. It wasn't only for the wounds on her body…

He kissed her until he felt half drunk himself, holding her as she settled on his lap.

He was careful, his hands resting on her hip, the small of her back, and _oh_ he made her feel so loved. But she didn't want to be a weak, timid little girl, a porcelain doll, in his eyes. She wanted him to kiss her and claim her and thrust into her until she couldn't see. She wanted to know that she was his…

They were open to each other, helpless, their clothing worked away, tugged aside. There was only a blanket to cover them, the wall at his back, and she sat astride his body, her head tucked in against his chest.

Not for the first time, she felt the swirling warmth, the soft, steady glow of her love for him.

Wherever they went, and whatever they did, they'd never been apart. Klaus and Violet, Violet and Klaus, two sides of the same coin… a constant in an ever-shifting equation. She had always loved him, like an instinct, like breathing, easy and graceful.

 _Almost too easy…_ It would destroy her, to be torn away from him. Unspeakable pain, far worse than dying. She'd been through it once before, or nearly so. _I told him to go. I had to_. He hadn't listened then.

"Klaus, please, you have to…"

But he kissed her silent before she could say another word.

Her hands traced patterns over his chest, her sweet, delicate mouth on his, maybe for the last time... _Violet..._

He circled her nipple with his thumb, with his fingers, felt the warmth of her response, inviting…It was more than enough to shatter his resolve.

He was kissing her softly now, almost reverently. She felt a hollow, painful ache, tears brimming in her eyes, and she wrapped herself around him.

He nuzzled and nipped at her breasts, her hands gliding though his hair, curling into fists as he took her into his mouth. Ferocity and grit and all-consuming need, and still the thought flowed in her… _We might never do this again…_

She felt his hand there, under the nightdress, caressing her almost hesitantly, the tips of his fingers just inside… She writhed and arched, breathing hard, but his mouth latched onto hers, his hand at the base of her spine, keeping her still. And he slowly, slowly eased them in…

It was too much, the silken heat of her, the slight contractions in her muscles, the way her breath hitched when he rocked against her.

She sank into him, eyes closed in ecstasy, his fingers buried knuckles-deep, curled and twisting…

He built a rhythm in her perfectly, up and down, pushing close, pulling back. And she held her breath as his palm brushed against her, the length of his fingers slick and warm…

His free hand slid into her hair, urgent now, open-mouthed kisses, harsh and searing.

She gave a muffled sound of protest as his fingers left her, and she opened her eyes into his. Her brother. He was half senseless, as she was, concern etching a line in his forehead. She slid her fingertips over it, smoothed it away.

"I don't want to hurt you." He touched her face with the back of his hand. "We shouldn't do this."

But she was holding him, kissing him, her arms around his neck as she pressed closer and he couldn't stop himself…

There was relief, the tension lifting, scattered like dead leaves as he rocked into her, as their eyes met again.

He felt her lips at the side of his face, her soft sighs at the gentle play of his hands, the salt of tears. His tears, hers, he couldn't tell anymore. It was all the same.

She drew his head to her good shoulder, his sweat-soaked hair under her fingers. "Stay with me, Klaus. Just stay, just this once…don't let me go."

"Vi…if I don't…"

"I can't bear it. I can't... "

Her hair fell loose, wild down her back, her heat engulfing him, hearts pounding… They were matched, bound to one another inextricably… so intense, so perfect… And he knew he'd regret it forever if he couldn't give her this.

"Violet…" Her eyes lit up when he said her name. There was a low growl in his voice, a surrender. It was all she'd been waiting for.

She nearly screamed, clutching him half to death as his hand slipped between her legs once more, the slight friction of his fingers…

He kissed her again, swallowed her cries as he moved with her, as slowly and gently as he could. And they were falling, surging, her mouth fused to his, breath like shallow gasps between them.

He was deep inside of her now, and she was purring inside, immersed in the sway of their hips, her body wracked with tiny shudders.

Electricity hummed in her, a fierce, unbroken rhythm, his voice in her hair, telling her that he loved her, he _loved_ her, and he wouldn't let go.

His skin burned with the touch of her fingertips, the kisses she'd lavished on his shoulders, the both of them sobbing, drenched in sweat. And he felt every second of her climax, the long, drawn-out aftershocks that he coaxed from her body.

 _Mine_... Possession echoed through her with the sound of his voice. _He's mine ._ And she wanted to be his, with everything she had, everything she'd ever be…His, his, only his…because he loved her, and because she was precious to him. No matter what…no matter what…

* * *

 

He leaned against the wall, sitting up with Violet curled around him, the blanket covering her bare shoulders. His face was shrouded in her hair, his arms about her waist, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

She exhaled as he did, a soft, shuddering sigh. It was pure bliss.

They were knit together, blood and bones and skin, too close, too tightly bound. His end would be hers, and she feared it more than any harm to herself. _Klaus…_ The touch of his hands, his smile...the way he looked at her when they were alone...

She lifted her head to kiss him deeply, a low moan against his mouth. She didn't know how to live without him, didn't want to know how…

 _What I want doesn't matter. It can't matter anymore._ She was a big sister, a mother really, and her life was not entirely her own. _We can't leave Sunny. We can't die and leave her all alone._ There could be no other choice, no other way. _One of us has to survive._

"You love me, Klaus." She spoke as if she knew it to be true. "You'd give up your life for me. You'd do anything to keep me from harm."

"I would," he said, eyes searching hers. "You know I would."

"Don't you think I feel the same way?" She brushed a hand across her eyes, blinking back tears. "I won't let you die for me, Klaus. I won't let you die. I want you to take Sunny and go."

"Vi, you can't ask me to do that."

She stared at the floor, unable to look at him, pain scalding her like boiling water. "I want you to go."

"You didn't leave me after I hurt my ankle. I slowed you down, but you didn't leave me."

Her hand closed over his in a death grip, her eyes on his again. "You said you'd do anything for me. Do this for me now."

"If I run away, won't that just make me look more guilty? It won't save either of us, Vi." He shook his head. "I'm not leaving you. We'll find the tunnel, even if we have to go back to the cavern and follow it to the end. If it leads to the house-"

"They don't care about what's real," she said. "They've already proven that. You have to go."

"Not without you."

"Klaus, we know that someone's coming. If not Gerard, then Ethie and the police. It'll happen, even if you stay. They'll separate us." He could feel her heart racing, her tears on the side of his neck. "Either we do it ourselves, or they will."

"I'm not going to lose you again."

She fixed him with a fierce, accusing look that nearly killed him. "You have to leave me. Sunny can't lose us both."

He had something of the wolf in him, a fire, his eyes like stone and steel. "She won't," was all he said.

There was no mistaking his intent, his steadfast conviction, and with dread burning in her chest, she knew what he was prepared to do.

 


	24. Hide and Seek

Warning: incest, implied violence

Disclaimer: standard

* * *

 

 

Hide and Seek

"I have been hunted for twenty-one years. I have literally lived in the saddle. I have never known a day of perfect peace."

~Frank James

"How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! But remembering is only a new form of suffering."

~Charles Baudelaire

* * *

 

The air was heavy, the walls of the little room closing in around them. It might as well have been a prison cell. Klaus couldn't help thinking of _The Pit and the Pendulum_ , the panels of the dungeon room that shifted inward, forcing their victims toward the deep hole in the center, and certain death. He closed his eyes, pressed his face into her bare shoulder, careful of her cuts and bruises. They sat together in a warm embrace, very still, their heartbeats loud like approaching footsteps.

It was unbearable, the soul-crushing anguish, the uncertainty, and they felt the weight of isolation more acutely than ever. They were alone in the world, utterly and totally alone, but for Sunny and each other.

They couldn't leave this place, not together, and they couldn't stay. Someone would come, and they would be separated, and the frail little world they'd built would be reduced to ashes again.

Violet dropped a kiss into his hair, and she held him tighter, his head under her chin. She was beginning to feel it now- the effects of what she'd done with him. Her body ached with the pain of her injuries, sore and throbbing, but she wouldn't take back a moment, not one millisecond of the time they'd shared. It had been all too brief.

She felt his heated breath, his eyes damp with tears as he murmured apologies. A sense of grim finality settled in her, an overwhelming heartache. He'd never been sorry afterwards. _Not since the first time._

"Klaus," her hands framed his face, brushing back his hair. He looked to her then. "Do you regret this?" There was a deep sadness in her eyes. He hadn't wanted to love her, not in this way, not with the burning intensity she'd felt in him mere moments ago. She remembered all too well. "Do you wish you hadn't…that we'd never-"

"No," he said quickly. "No, Vi. I don't regret this." His voice was thick with emotion. "I didn't…I mean…I shouldn't have…"

He loved her too much, he'd taken things too far, and now... Now she was in greater danger than ever, all because he couldn't keep himself under control. "I didn't protect you. What if you…if we…" He couldn’t meet her eyes.

She touched his shoulder lightly, turned him back to face her. "I don't care," she said. "I don't care. I'll never be sorry, no matter what happens now." A blush spread over her skin, contrasting with the white nightdress, and an image flashed before him, of the first time...

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. How easy it would be, to fall into the same mistake all over again.

She took one of his hands in hers, and she kissed his palm, drew him back to her breast.

Her mouth was soft on his, sweet and warm, and she possessed him, filled him to the brim, leaving no room for shame or remorse. But he could feel the resignation in her, the despair that made her kiss him with such wild abandon. And he knew the truth, although he refused to admit it to himself. She was saying goodbye.

She made to pull back, sliding away from him, but his arms tightened around her, to keep her there.

Her hand squeezed his shoulder then, hard, and he broke the kiss. After a moment, she found her voice. "We can't stay in here, Klaus. They'll expect it."

He nodded slightly, trying to catch his breath.

"If we can't run, we have to fight. We need the element of surprise. And if he…if he has explosives…" She fought down a piercing wave of anguish, forcing herself to think. "We should move into the washroom. We'll be safer in there if he…if he tries to burn us out."

Klaus gritted his teeth, and he felt the rage sweep over him, white-hot and blinding. He didn't want to analyze anymore, didn't want to see inside Gerard's head. But that was precisely what she needed him to do. "I don't think he will, Vi. He could've killed you, but he didn't. He…" His voice broke then, failing him.

"I know." He didn't miss the ache in her voice. "He wanted me alive." She tried to smile, but it was affected and she knew it. She couldn't hide from him. "If that means he won't set the house on fire, then I'm glad," she said. "It might work to our advantage."

She thought of the sewing machine once more. "We can set a trap with this, in the hallway. If it works, it'll shoot out needles when it's triggered. The thread is strong enough for a tripwire, but it can't face both directions. What if he comes from his room instead?"

"I'll wait in the hall," he said. "I'll watch the door to his room."

"Klaus, no."

Her brother didn't respond, only reached for the gun lying on the floor beside them. And he pressed it into her hands.

"You keep it." He held her with his eyes. "If they get past me-"

"No," she pushed it back at him quickly. "You take it, Klaus. I don't think I could." Her fingers were trembling. She didn't even want to hold it.

And then he remembered what Sunny had told him. _Violet tried to shoot him, but the gun didn't work…It was empty._

It would be too traumatic for her to use it again.

He laid the weapon aside, wrapped his hands around hers. "Okay," he said gently. "Okay, Vi. We still have the knife and the pitchfork."

It sickened her, the violence, the very idea of killing another human being. But then she thought of the cold, dead eyes, the single-minded cruelty of people like Gerard. _And Olaf…he's the same…_ People who didn't care who they hurt or what damage they caused _. As long as they get what they want._ They were dead inside.

If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she might not have believed it. Those men weren't human anymore- they were monsters. _I can do no wrong in killing them then. They would've killed me, or worse…_

She looked into her brother's face, and then over his shoulder, to where Sunny lay sleeping.

"Give me the knife," she said.

* * *

 

Violet couldn't ignore the prickling in her skin, like sharp nettles, the feeling of being watched. _It's impossible. There's not even a window in here._ The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but she kept her eyes on the washroom door, tense and alert. She sat up, her spine arrow-straight, though the chair Klaus had brought in for her was comfortable enough. Her fingers curled around the hilt of the kitchen knife as she held it against her chest, blade down. _He'll be alright_ , she told herself. _He'll be alright._

"Violet?" Sunny's voice startled her. "What's 'maleficent' ?"

"What?" She turned to look at her baby sister, uncomprehending.

" 'Mal-ef-i-cent. What does it mean?" Sunny glanced up from the book she was perusing, inside the empty bathtub. Violet had asked her to bring the book of folktales, to practice her reading. If nothing else, it would offer a distraction from the nightmare they were in.

She smiled, in spite of herself, as Sunny sounded out the word. _We were teaching her…_ Tears stung her eyes as she remembered their first evening with the book, in front of the fireplace. Her little sister on her lap, the calm, soothing timbre of his voice…

Would he ever read to them again? She brushed her fear aside, hoping that Sunny hadn't noticed. The good things, the memories she wanted… they hurt almost as much as the ones she tried to forget.

"Sunny, I…I think it's something like 'harmful.' Or maybe 'evil.'" _Klaus would know._ Her throat felt dry and sore. She caught a glimpse of herself in the wide mirror above the sink, the scrapes and burns and deep bruises...She averted her eyes quickly.

"But that means he's evil."

"Who, Sunny?"

"The king. Why do they let him be the king, if he's evil? Why doesn't somebody stop him?"

"That's a good question." Her eyes softened. "You'd try to stop him, wouldn't you?"

"I would try," she said simply. Her attention fell back to the book. "He wants to marry his daughter, but she runs away. She hides in a tree trunk." She made a face. "Why does he want to marry her? Why doesn't he think it's bad?" Sunny glanced up then. "Isn't it bad?"

"Yes, Sunny. It's bad," her voice was quiet, distracted.

"But why is it bad?"

Violet felt her heart constrict. _Why should I think it's wrong, when Klaus and I…_ But she found it vile and disgusting, stomach-turning. To be hunted, preyed upon and used as a thing…She felt a sudden stab of empathy for the poor girl in the story. And then, like lightning, it struck her. The crucial distinction.

"It's bad because she doesn't want him, Sunny. A father should protect his daughter, not try to…do something like that." She suppressed a shudder. "But even if he wasn't her father, it would still be wrong."

"Why?" Sunny wanted to know.

"He wants to marry her against her will. No one should ever force another person to…into…" She shut her eyes for a moment, to calm the panic churning inside of her. "It would still be wrong," she said again.

There was a tug at her sleeve, and she looked into the little girl's drawn face. "Can I sit with you for a while?"

Violet laid the knife on the floor beside her chair. "Of course you can." She managed a faint, tired smile, and she opened her arms to her sister.

"How long do we have to stay in here?"

Pain swamped her, and she turned her head away so Sunny wouldn't see. "We have to stay in here until it's over."

"When will it be over?"

Violet released the breath she'd been holding, face to face with her reflection in the mirror. It was awful to see, a reminder of what lay in store for her if Gerard had his way. _It might be better to die now, and get it over with quickly._ She flinched, guilty at the thought. And then she squared her shoulders. Her family needed her. They hadn't abandoned her, and she couldn't leave them. She had to be strong.

"We'll stop them, Sunny. It'll be over when we stop them."

And she tried not to remember that they had stopped Olaf, more than once, only to have him escape from justice. Bribery and lies and legal technicalities…She didn't quite understand it all, but the result was clear. _He got away with everything._ He'd gone unpunished, while they'd been sentenced to a life without their parents, a life on the run.

And they were being hunted... _It'll never be over for us. Never._ She kissed Sunny's forehead, filed the dark thoughts away in her mind.

She hated lying to her little sister.

* * *

 

Klaus checked over the trap they'd set in the sewing room, an apparatus they'd created out of sheet-ropes and the pitchfork he'd taken from the barn. The weapon would swing out, prongs-first, slamming into whoever opened the door. He almost pitied anyone who might charge in looking for them. With a final adjustment, a final knot in the rope to ensure that it would hold, he closed the door slowly behind him.

It wasn't much, really, and it wouldn't stop more than one assailant. But that didn't diminish his pride in Violet. Injured as she was, and with the few supplies on hand, she'd been able to devise not one but two contraptions that would help them to defend the house.

He paused for a moment, thinking of the whirring sound, the nagging feeling that he should look outside with the spyglass.

Changing the plan a little, he moved the sewing-machine-gun down the hall, so that it faced the locked door of Gerard's room. He stretched thread from wall to wall, a few inches above the floor, fastening each line with pushpins, and he attached them to the machine, the way Violet had told him. The trip wires were ready, and he plugged the power cord into an outlet in the right-hand wall. If anyone came out of Gerard's room now, they'd incur more than a little punishment, a hurling barrage of pins and needles. And he would hear them coming.

He retrieved the pistol from the pocket of his jacket, along with the spyglass, and, after another swift scan of the front rooms, he stepped out onto the porch.

At first glance, nothing seemed amiss, but for the blackened, hollowed-out shell where the barn used to be. A memory came over him, of another fire-gutted building, and ashes blowing in the wind, the smell of charred wood and myriad other things, burned to a crisp. He didn't want to think on what they were.

Turning from the barn, he swung the spyglass to his right, to the dirt road leading to the farm. What he saw made him stop short. He lowered the glass, tried to see with his eyes, unaided, but then he raised it again. He hadn't been mistaken.

There was a truck, parked on the side of the road some distance away, the two front tires flattened, rims sinking in the mud. Ethie's weather-beaten truck, with faded red paint. He would've recognized it anywhere.

It was turned in the direction of the house, as if she'd been driving home from town. But he could see no other vehicles, no ambulance, no police cars or flashing lights. Only Ethie's truck.

And there was no one behind the wheel.

* * *

 

Violet stared into the mirror again, and suddenly, she realized the danger it posed. If Gerard did have explosives, and if he tried to bomb the house…She could almost see it happening, the mirror shattering over them, glass shards flying everywhere at breakneck speed. _We have to remove it, or else smash it ourselves._

With Sunny's help, she made her way over to the washroom counter, and examined the mirror, the wooden frame around it.

The whole thing seemed to be attached to the wall. She asked Sunny to get the knife for her. _Maybe I can pry it loose._

The frame was free-standing, not resting on the counter. _It must be hanging._ But when she tried to lift away from the wall, it wouldn't move an inch.

Sunny was with her then. "What are you doing?"

Violet took the knife from her. "I'm going to try to take this down, Sunny." Leaning on the counter for support, she ran a hand along the inner edge of the frame, but then she halted. Chilling fear crawled up her scalp.

"Sunny…" She tried to keep her voice calm, but her eyes were fixed on the mirror, on her sister's reflection. "I want you to go and find Klaus."

"But we're supposed to stay in here until it's over." The little girl's forehead knotted in confusion.

"Just go and tell him…Tell him to remember what I said when he called me brave." Violet cast a sharp glance back at her. "Can you do it?"

Sunny wasn't entirely sure of what was happening, but she could see the abject terror in her sister. It made her stomach hurt.

"I can do it," she said.

Violet smoothed her hair back with one hand, bent to look her in the eyes. "I love you, Sunny. Never forget that." The urgency in her voice was palpable. She kissed her forehead once more, quickly. "Now go, before it's too late."

"But-"

"Go, Sunny. Run."

Violet watched as she took off, heading for the front of the house. Her fear abated slightly. At least Sunny had a chance to get away. _She'll find Klaus. She'll find him, and she'll be safe_.

Her attention returned to the mirror then, the sight that made her cold with panic. _Hinges._ The image lodged in her mind like a grappling hook. _It has hinges._ She could see them, hidden behind the frame, hardly visible if she weren't up close, and if she weren't so mechanically inclined…

_It's not a medicine cabinet. The door isn't made to swing outward._ Her knees turned to water. _Klaus was right. He was right about the tunnel. But it isn't in Gerard's room...It's here._


	25. Behind the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She'd felt another pair of eyes on her, even if she couldn't see them. He's there. He's been there all along...

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, violence, language

* * *

 

 

Behind the Mirror

"I am not sick. I am insane. But that will not stop the game." ~ The Zodiac Killer

* * *

 

Sunny paused at door to the old sewing room, before she remembered to leave it alone. Klaus wouldn't be in there anyway. _We set a trap…_ She ran to Ethie's room, and then to the kitchen. _Where is he?_

The front door was ajar. She pushed it open, clattered down the porch steps, calling for her brother. And she looked out, across the yard. _He's not here either._

Before she could move, she was grabbed from behind, lifted, and a hand clamped over her mouth. She tried to scream, but the sound came out as a muffled squeak. Her eyes darted about frantically, but she didn't see Klaus…

He'd disappeared, and there was no one to help her now.

* * *

 

Violet drew a deep breath, her one hand clutching the edge of the sink, and she lifted her chin. It was sheer force of will that kept her standing. She gave no thought to her battered reflection, the dark circles that lined her eyes. She'd felt another pair of eyes on her, even if she couldn't see them. _He's there. He's been there all along, watching us._

Her nerves were stretched taut, almost beyond their breaking point, but she didn't falter. She almost felt lucky, that she'd discovered it in time, before he could catch Sunny too.

She didn't have to guess at what he'd do, with both of them at his mercy. _He'd use her as a hostage, so that I wouldn't fight him…so he could force me to..._ She cringed inwardly, felt the bile rising in her throat. _I'd do anything to keep her safe…anything he wanted. He was counting on it. Just like…_

She slid her one hand along the counter, surreptitiously. And she reached for the knife, dropped her hand to hide it in the folds of her nightgown.

"You missed your chance," she said to the mirror. "You're too late."

The glass panel clicked back, away from the frame. It was surreal, almost like the funhouse she'd seen once, at a carnival. A sliver of an opening appeared then, a gap between the mirror and the wall frame. Musty air wafted over her like fetid breath.

"Not for long." His voice was slick. "Call her back."

She stared into the darkness, unblinking. "You'll have to kill me first."

"You won't get out of this so easy." The passage opened further, to reveal his smirking face, a bandana wrapped around his head, where she'd cut him.

In a sudden flash, she knew that he'd done this before, many times. And no one had stopped him. No one has seen him for what he was…

Her mind still clung to one small hope, that Klaus would burst in with the gun, that he'd find her before…

She blocked out the image. Her only thought now was to divert the monster away from Sunny, to stall him, until her brother would come.

_He doesn't like to talk about Emma…_

"You watched your sister in here, didn't you? No better than a peeping Tom." He wasn't listening, only looking at her with dark, hooded eyes…toying with her… imagining the things he wanted to do…

Revulsion formed a hard knot in her stomach. _At least I have his attention_. "She should've been safe with her family, in her own house."

"Her house?" He sneered. "This house is mine! Everything here is mine!"

"Your mother would have something to say about that," she pressed him. "What'll she say, when she finds out what you really are?"

He gave a hard, sneering laugh, as if he knew something she didn't. As if he'd already won. "She won't say anything. She won't be coming back."

 _She won't be coming back_. He'd said that before, about his sister...with the same callous indifference, the same certainty.

Cold fear gripped her. _He made sure of that._

She felt a wave of grief for the poor woman, regret for ever suspecting her… _She was too good. She couldn't see the truth about him._ Her leg throbbed, her body numb fatigue. _She didn't want to see the truth_.

He cracked a grin at her, and her mind shifted to her own plight.

"Call her back." His voice was a snarl. "Call her back now."

She held fast to the knife handle, fingers digging into her palm.

"You're going to leave her out there by herself? You never know what might happen. A pretty little girl like her…"

She felt as if she were on fire, her muscles screaming as she stood up straight. If he turned his horrid, twisted cravings on her baby sister…

"I'll never let you hurt her." The voice rang out, sharp and severe. She barely recognized it as her own.

He was on her in an instant, knocking her to the floor. And she felt his hand snag in her hair. "I'll do more than that," he hissed, the stench of his breath nearly chocking her. "Unless you give me what I want."

He forced a rough kiss on her, holding her down, and she kicked at him, scratching at his face…

Gerard cried out in pain, throwing her away. He looked disbelievingly at his right arm, dripping with blood from a long gash. Violet clutched the knife, ready to slash at him again.

His incredulity turned to rage in an instant. "You bitch!" He wrestled the knife away from her, trapping her with his weight. "You'll pay for that. I'm gonna carve you up, one piece at a time."

He pressed the cold steel of the blade to her throat, his blood smearing her skin. She could feel his arousal, his heavy panting, and she wanted to retch

"Where's your brother? You think he can save you now?"

Comprehension swept over her then. _By herself…leave her out there by herself…_

Her spine snapped taut, fear tearing through her in shockwaves. "What have you done with him?"

"He left." His grin was pure evil. "He ran off and left you for me."

"You're lying." Her voice didn't waver. _He'll come back. He'll come for me, unless…_ The thought hit her like a death blow.

With a cry, she threw herself at him. But she was weak, worn down by fighting. And he was too strong.

He punched her in the face, slammed her head into the floor. She was stunned, barely conscious, but she heard his voice again as he dragged her toward the opening in the wall. "He won't be back either."

Pictures swam in her head...Klaus lying somewhere, hurt and broken. Dying…

She stifled a sob, her body burning with an agony too terrible to bear.

If he were gone, Sunny would be left alone and... She didn't want to think on what her own life would be. It was too awful to contemplate-surviving without him. _If I survive at all_.

Harsh laughter ripped through her, a mocking voice. _He won't be back..._ But she forced it all away.

 _Klaus is alive._ She'd feel it in her blood, in her every breath, if he were not. And she would be as dead as Gerard.

* * *

 

Sunny bit down on the hand covering her mouth, kicked out violently as she was pulled under the porch.

"Sunny, it's okay. It's me." He caught her swinging fist in his hand. "It's me."

The familiar voice reached her then. "Why'd you do that?" She stared up at her brother angrily. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry." He spoke in a whisper, rubbing his hand where she'd broken the skin. "You were shouting, Sunny. If there's anyone around, they'll hear you. Somebody's out there." His eyes glanced over the yard before they set on her again. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Violet."

"She said to get you." Sunny pulled on his arm. "Come on."

Her words made him go pale. Violet wouldn't call off their plan, wouldn't send their little sister running out of the washroom. _Not without a good reason_ … And he could think of one…

Rage swept through him in a rush, a surge of adrenaline. _He's been a step ahead of us the whole time..._

"Let's go, Sunny."

She looked to him, wide-eyed when she saw the gun in his hand, the expression he wore…hard and cold and deadly. He wasn't Klaus anymore, the brother who let her win at snowball fights, who tucked her in and read to her at night. If only for a moment, he'd become someone else, someone dangerous. It almost frightened her.

* * *

 

Her vision blurred, sounds indistinct in her ears but Violet fought to stay conscious as he hauled her into the tunnel. She was thrown down, a long drop, and she landed hard on her left side. Faintly, she thought she might've broken something, but she couldn' t be sure. Her senses were dulled and deadened, her mind drifting away…

The air was stale and still, but for the slight, trickling sound of water. And it was so dark. He hauled her up, slinging her over his shoulder, and she blinked as they moved from pitch darkness into a dimly lit passage. Yellow light poured from an alcove a few yards from them… A single lantern… the source of the light…

She glanced about quickly, taking in an old brass bed, a mattress that looked as if it had never been clean, and clothes strewn about on the ground…. _There must be something I can use…_

He slung her backward onto the mattress, beating her again as she tried to struggle.

The violence only inflamed him more.

His mouth crashed down on hers, blood dripping onto her from his arm and shoulder.

 _NoNoNoNo!_ She fought him fiercely, thrashing, striving to free herself.

His weight pinned her to the mattress as he pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket, looping them through a bar on the headboard and snapping them around her wrists. She shook her head, trying to push him off, and she could hear him laughing in cruel amusement.

Then he was on her again, gnawing at her lips, ripping her nightdress, accosting her in a brutal imitation of her brother.

He shoved his tongue down her throat, and she bit him. With a howl, he lurched back, moving to smash his fist into her face, shifting his weight off of her legs.

It was the opportunity she'd been waiting for, and she kicked him as hard as she could. Her knee connected swiftly with his chin as he fell over, gasping , the sharp blow sending him to the ground.

And he lay there, groaning in pain.

She had only a mere, few seconds... Violet examined the handcuffs. _Nothing to pick them with._ She looked to the brass bar on the headboard then, her mind racing. _If I could get this off..._

The bar was held to the bedposts with bolts. _There should be two on each side_ , she observed. But one was missing on the right-hand post, fallen out somewhere...And two of them were loose. She shifted to the right edge of the bed, the cuffs digging into her wrists as she stretched.

Her fingers searched deftly for the small metal peg. _Got it._ Her strength nearly gave out as she disengaged it, turning until it gave way…

She couldn't help feeling a hint of satisfaction when it dropped to the floor.

But the brief moment of victory died as Gerard's shadow loomed over her again. She let her arms go slack, hoping to hide what she'd done. _Maybe he didn't see._

He'd returned with the knife in his hand, and now she was very afraid.

He held it to the bare skin of her leg, her thigh. It was all so horribly similar…so like that other time, when Olaf had threatened to...

With a jolt of desperate panic, she wondered if he knew.

He made a fist in her hair, hacking off the long strands with vicious slashes. "You're mine now." The knife's edge pressed against her neck, against her pulse, and she went completely still."Say you love me, sweetheart," he hissed. "Or I'll slit your pretty throat."

Her stricken eyes gave him a heady rush of power. He wanted to hear her beg, to taste her fear, to torture her until she broke at last.

This one thought she could hold out on him, but she was no different...no different from the others. She would crack eventually, as they all did. She would plead for him to stop, and he would deny her that, because he could.

In the meantime he would have his fun. Her lips tasted of blood-an addiction he'd developed long ago. And he wanted more.

 


	26. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baudelaires never say die. But never is a long time...

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, violence, character death

Trigger Warning: sexual assault

* * *

 

Reckoning

"If you're going through hell, keep going." ~ Winston Churchill

"The uncontrollable brute whom I want to put out of the way is not to be punished for his misdeeds, nor used as an example or a warning; he is to be killed for the protection of others..."

~ Jacques Barzun

* * *

 

Violet felt the edge of the knife against her throat, a trickle down the side of her neck. Her own blood... There was no doubt in her mind that he would kill her, just as he'd killed Emma and the others. _But not yet._ Who could tell how long he meant to keep her here? It might be days, months even, before he'd finished...

Desperation hovered in the air, like a mournful presence, mingled with the coppery smell of blood. It clutched at her with ghostly fingers, bid her to give in, to surrender and let herself fade… _Not yet…_

For better or worse, he had no intention of killing her now. She swallowed, all but holding her breath. In a corner of her mind, she almost wished that he would.

_There are things worse than death._

He wanted to savor her reaction, the torment and terror and helplessness, wanted it so much that he was hesitating. She wondered if he needed a response from her to feel powerful...to complete the deed.

She'd known too many of his kind, the murderers and rapists, the power-mad predators. He would only escalate the violence if she denied him, if she refused to beg and cower and submit. _But he might keep me alive a little longer…_

If she could buy more time to dismantle the bed… maybe, even, to be rescued…

"You want me to lie?" Her voice carried a strength she didn't feel. "I thought you didn't want me to lie."

"It's not a lie!" He beat her savagely, drawing blood along her bruised skin. "You love this. You love me!"

Thick fingers gripped her throat again.

"Say it!"

She bit back a scream as he cut her arm.

"I won't!"

His weight bore down on her, the sweat and stench of his body. ""You will," he snarled. “You'll do anything for me. You'll want me."

It hurt her to breathe, a stinging pain in her ribs, but she would not comply. He had no one else to threaten here, no one but her.

He clouted her with the knife handle, tearing at the shredded remnants of her nightdress. His hands pawed at her body, resisting her attempts to fight him, and he struck her again with his fist.

She blinked, to clear the fog swimming in her eyes. _He's going to force me…He doesn't care what I want… Why should it matter to him, that I say it?_

He dropped the knife, and she saw the look on his face, the smug, sickening grin. A rush of nausea swamped her. _He wants what we have_... _Klaus and I...He wants to be Klaus..._

"He won't want you anymore! No one's gonna want you when we're done!"

Her eyes shot open wide. "You said he wouldn't come back." An irrepressible hope swelled in her, as if she'd come to life again. "I knew it, I knew you were lying. He's not dead!"

She saw him stumble mentally, the heat of frustration as his ugly words backfired. He had lied, and her brother was alive, and she was certain of that now.

But, after a moment, he sneered at her again. "Who says I'm talking about him?"

"Who, then?" Her eyes fixed on him piercingly. "Who are you talking about?"

His only answer was a laugh, rough and guttural. She felt her stomach constrict.

He could take her body, but he would not have her. Never her…

Imagination was her gift and skill; the source of all her inventions. In the darkest times, when she could do nothing else, she had found solace there. She'd learned to detach her mind from the bleak despair of reality, to pretend another world into being, where no one could hurt her little family and no one wanted to... The dream was fleeting, always, but it was something.

_There's always something._

She squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still hear the clink of his belt buckle, the rustling sound of his pants.

_Don't react to him… just don't react_. She retreated into herself and tried to imagine him away.

* * *

 

Klaus and Sunny sprinted up the farmhouse steps and barged inside, shouting for their sister. The house was empty and dark, save for a light shining in the washroom. Sunny reached the doorway first, and she started. The candle lamp she'd been using was still in the empty bathtub, where she'd left it. But there was no sign of Violet.

In an instant, her brother was there, breathing hard as he took in the scene...and his heart nearly stopped.

Violet's chair was overturned on its side, blood stained the floor and the opposite wall, and at his feet he found a torn, bloody scrap of cloth. _Her nightdress…_

He moved in front of Sunny, pushing the chair out of his way. _She was all alone…I never should've left them._ Tears burned like sulfur in his eyes.

"Sunny, what happened?" He turned on his heel, to face her. "What happened before you ran out? Did you see him?"

"No," she sniffed, clinging to her brother. "Violet said we should take down the mirror, but it was stuck. And then she said to get you. I should've gone faster."

She fell into a fit of sobs that broke his heart, and the thought of what that depraved bastard would do to Violet broke him all over again. Images of her, injured and brutalized, were more than enough to send him reeling, delirious with panic and fury.

Every fiber of his being screamed for him to take action, but first he had to think. Too much depended on him now. _How did he get in? The machine is still set in the hallway. No one came from his room… they would've triggered it…and no one came in through the front door…_

"Sunny…It's not your fault." He crouched down to meet her eyes, willing strength into her.

"I'm supposed to tell you…remember what she said when you called her brave. That's what she said. That's all."

Her eyes filled with tears again and he gathered her close, his thoughts racing. _It might be Gerard's blood, not hers…He wouldn't kill Violet, at least not right away. He wanted her alive...Oh god…_

He felt sick and helpless, ready to tear Gerard apart. And the bastard wasn't there. _He could be anywhere by now._

Sunny's account played over and over in his head. _Where did he take her?_

In his mind's eye, he could see Violet, curled up with him on the lower bunk, listening as he tried to tell her what was in his heart…how grateful he was that she would fight for him, even if it came to nothing… _You're the bravest person I've ever seen_ … _you should look in the mirror_ _sometime…look in the mirror…_

"That's it!" He burst out, holding Sunny at arm's length. "The mirror..." He looked past her then. "He came in through the mirror." _Violet must've figured it out, before he could spring the trap._

He studied the mirror, his hands following the path hers had made, along the edges where the glass met the frame.

_How did he open it? If it's a trap door, there might be a switch or a lever…_

But he couldn't find one. He tried pushing on the mirror, in several places, but nothing worked.

_We don't have time for this._ With a quick glance at his little sister, he grabbed hold of the chair. "Stand back, Sunny."

She hid behind the door then.

In one swift move, he smashed the mirror, broken shards scattering about the room. There was an empty, hollow space in the wall behind it, and a metal ladder, leading downward…They peered over the edge, unable to see more than a few rungs in the darkness below.

He glanced at Sunny again, and for a moment he was torn once more. His first impulse was to rush to Violet, come what may. But he still had to protect their little sister. _I can't bring her down there._

"Sunny, come on. You can hide in the rafters," he said. "I'll come back for you when it's over."

"No!" She wouldn't let go of his arm. "I don't want to."

"Sunny…" Guilt churned like poison in his stomach. "I have to go in there, but I can't take you with me."

"But no place is safe."

He could remember when he'd told her that.

"You can't make me stay," she said obstinately. "I'll just follow you."

He sighed. _I have no choice_. "Okay, Sunny, but stay close to me. If I need to hide you, once we're down there, you have to stay put." His hand gripped her shoulder. "Promise me."

"I will," she nodded. "I promise."

_And promises mean everything_ …

They approached the gap in the wall then.

It was so dark inside, where the candlelight could not penetrate; a blackness made more terrible by the knowledge of what lurked, unseen, within.

Her tiny hand clutched his, and the guilt nearly overwhelmed him. _What am I doing? What if something happens to me, and I can't…_

He heard Violet then, as if she were there, at his side. " _Just do the best you can."_

Her voice calmed the storm inside of him.

"Let's go, Sunny." The last time, he'd wished for a lantern, but now they needed the cover only darkness could provide. He swore to himself that he would let nothing harm her. There could be no turning back now.

Sunny clung to his neck, in between her brother and the wall as they started down the ladder. It was a precarious descent, slippery with loose dirt and dust, and he could hardly see. _There's enough room for both of us, anyhow._ He thought of the underground fissures again, and he forced himself to slow down.

Another memory came over him then, one of his more reckless moments, and he could almost hear Violet chiding him for being too impulsive. It didn't happen very often-he'd told her as much.

And, although she played the protective big sister, he hadn't missed the spark in her eyes. He risked himself for her, and for Sunny, and she loved him dearly for it…even as they argued…

His heart ached in his chest. _Hold on, Vi. I'm coming._

* * *

 

Violet assembled an invention in her mind, like a puzzle, to block out the heaving breaths, the creaking mattress springs, the pain radiating through her. And the rasping voice in her ear, telling her how he'd gutted her brother, left him choking on his own blood… _It's a lie…it's all a lie…_

She wasn't here, trapped beneath a monster in the damp and darkness. This was a bad dream, only a dream. Any minute now, she'd wake up. She'd sneak into the barn with Klaus, and he would hold her and love her and make the world go away.

She could see herself now, in a future that would never be, waking up beside him in a four poster bed, their bodies touching as he kissed her breathless…sunlight glancing over her through gauzy curtains, warm on her skin… followed by his hands, and then his mouth…

But she cried out as Gerard leaned on her burned shoulder, biting her neck… _NoNoNo…_ The illusion was gone, leaving only the nightmare, a rotting stench, stagnant water, stale air.

It was too horrible, this appalling degradation, but through a haze of fear and pain she knew that she must keep her head about her.

Oblivion beckoned, a void empty of suffering, and she could feel herself succumbing to the darkness. But visions streamed behind her eyes; of Klaus, his lopsided smile, his warm eyes and clever hands… Of Sunny too… her tiny girl, all sprightly and brave. They were her will to survive, her everything. Somehow, if only for them, she had to find a way...

She forced her mind to focus on the bolts in the left bedpost, forced her fingers to reach... _Only...two… more…_ And the vile monster took no notice.

* * *

 

The shadows swallowed them in the deep, ominous gloom of the tunnel. Klaus could hear dripping water, the echoing creak of the ladder as he stepped down from the last rung, still carrying Sunny.

His eyes adjusted after a moment. The tunnel was larger than he'd thought- an underground cave. He found that he could stand up easily, with room to spare. There was only one passageway, directly in front of them, and he followed it.

After a short distance, the passage opened into a wider cavern… a warren of tunnels; carved, he guessed, by a long-depleted, subterranean river. The ceiling was far above them, too far to reach, even if Sunny stood on his shoulders. But the cave walls were dotted with nooks and crannies, high shelves and low, shallow recesses.

He glanced up at the niche directly over them, a deep depression, punctured with stalagmites and small boulders. It was the perfect place to hide his little sister, if he had to. _No one would ever find her in there._

A dim, yellow glow lit the passageway, streaming out from one of the lower alcoves. He saw a flickering of movement, and he ducked into the shadows with Sunny.

_She's in there…Violet…_

Sunny made to slip from his restraining arm, to run to Violet, but he held her back. It was all he could do to stop himself. _I can't help her if I get myself killed. I can't help her..._

His eyes shifted from the lighted chamber to a stone outcrop, protruding from the wall, no more than two feet from Gerard's position.

He was suddenly, acutely aware of the handgun in his pocket, and he cursed his luck. He'd read four books on marksmanship, but they mattered little now. In a cave, it would be too dangerous to shoot from a distance. And he didn't fully trust his aim. _The bullets could ricochet and hit Violet. I have to get closer._

That outcrop would be just what he needed, if he could reach it without Gerard spotting him…

"Sunny," his voice was cold, hardly recognizable. "I've got a mission for you."

* * *

 

He hoisted his little sister into the rock shelf, to hide her from view. Even while standing on his shoulders, she was barely tall enough to grab hold of the ledge and pull herself up. The sand-smooth walls precluded climbing. It would be exceedingly difficult for anyone to get to her.

A deep breath, a final glance to ensure that Sunny was out of sight, and he was dashing down the corridor, toward Violet and the faint glow ahead. But the light wavered again, as if someone had moved in front of it, and he dropped to the ground.

Slowly, he crawled forward, staying low until he reached the jutting rock, and cover.

He took out his pocket watch, held the reflective surface in a patch of light, to signal Sunny. And then he drew the gun.

He'd never fired a weapon before, never thought of shooting anyone. _Except Olaf_.

But Gerard was a monster, cut from the same cloth. He'd outsmarted his parents and everyone in town; he'd been allowed to operate in the dark, without consequence. And now, he thought he could take Violet…

It would be his last mistake.

Klaus held himself steady, his body tense, prepared to strike, tension like broken glass in his stomach.

He would have one chance at this. Only one.

_Here goes nothing…_

* * *

 

He was mauling her, hurting her, crushing her against the mattress… She tossed her head, her eyes shut tight to deny it, but she couldn't fight him anymore, couldn't stop him. She was scarcely aware that she'd managed to remove another bolt. His mouth clamped down on hers, his breath invading, and there was no escape from the brutal pounding in her body, the screaming in her mind.

She heard it then, a high-pitched, piercing shriek, louder than the sounds in her head. _Sunny…_ It had to be Sunny… _No…please, no…_

Gerard shoved her down, stumbled off of her, and she heard his hollow laugh. She lifted her eyes then.

He was smirking, grinning from ear to ear, as if he had all the luck in the world, and he knew it.

_What's she doing? She shouldn't be here…_ In that moment, Violet thought she would break.

And then another thought occurred to her.

Sunny wouldn't do that, wouldn't scream out and give herself away. She'd been in the cavern before. _She doesn't scare so easily…not even when we saw the…the bodies..._ And she had found her way in, from the house… _How else could she get here so quickly?_

Violet felt her heart skip. _Klaus is with her…he must be, or she wouldn't know about the mirror…_

Her attention returned to Gerard as he picked up the lantern. She tilted her head aside, to hide her face. He seemed so pathetic now…no more than a mere braggart. _He's walking into a trap._

He left her then, heading for the entrance, and he didn't bother to take the knife. It was only a child, after all. A frightened, little child…easy prey.

"Don't go away." His sardonic laugh echoed, and Violet felt a wave of dizziness. But she was past being afraid of him.

Her brother and sister were out there. And they were up to something.

The light swung about wildly, and Klaus braced himself, his back against the rock. He heard the familiar laugh, the sound of heavy footsteps, drawing nearer. _It worked...he's taking the bait..._

Everything happened in a split second. He was on his feet, and Gerard was there, in front of him, and the gun went off, once and again.

A dull, muffled thud, and then another… A beat passed before he realized that he'd pulled the trigger. He felt strangely detached, as if he were watching it happen to someone else… as if he weren't there at all.

The light blinded him, directly in his eyes, and he blinked, coming out of a daze. The lantern lay on its side, among the rocks. He took hold of it, held it up. He saw Gerard then.

The bastard was sprawled flat on his stomach, blood forming a pool around his body and his head, where he'd hit the ground.

He seemed to be unconscious, or nearly so.

Klaus didn't feel the slightest hesitation, not one moment of remorse. He had to finish this.

Monsters didn't stop of their own free will. They didn't burn out, and give up, and reform. It was possible, to be sure. _Anything is possible_. But it was altogether improbable…the most unlikely thing in the world.

Gerard enjoyed what he did, the pain he caused, the sense of power. There would be no storybook ending, no sudden attack of conscience, no spirits to visit him on Christmas Eve and show him the error of his ways. He was an evil bastard, a stalker, and he'd hunt them until he died. _Unless he finds another target…_ Klaus wasn't about to take that chance.

He couldn't wish this on another person, in any case. _Someone has to do it…might as well be me…_

Unceremoniously, he put the gun to Gerard's head, and fired again.

_He can't hurt Violet anymore. He can't hurt anyone._

The anger lifted from him like a curse when he saw her, and she sobbed his name in relief.

The lantern and the gun fell from his hands. "Violet…Vi… I'm sorry. I should've known." He stripped off his jacket, and he laid it over her, as carefully as he could. More than anything, he wanted to take it all away, to make everything alright for her.

She shook her head weakly. "He fooled me too." Her eyes found his then. "Where is he, Klaus? What happened?"

"It's over," he told her quickly, and he set the lantern upright, to examine her bonds. "I…He's dead, Vi." His thoughts were on another problem. _I have to get her out of here_.

"And Sunny?" She found that she could hardly speak.

"She's okay-she's hiding." He ran a hand over the cuffs, gingerly. "I don't have the key. I'll go back and search him."

"No, Klaus, we don't…we don't need the key. Help me with this," She nodded towards the headboard, the brass bar that kept her chained down. "There's one more bolt… Can you find it?"

He reached around behind her, grasping. "I've got it." The bar would have to be unscrewed, he realized, after he removed the last bolt holding it in place. The metal was partially rusted, the bolt seemed to resist, but slowly, he began to pry it loose.

She let out a strangled cry, and he spun around. He followed her gaze to the entryway, the shadows just beyond the alcove. Someone was standing there.

Klaus seized the gun from the cave floor, and he aimed for the entrance, placing himself between Violet and whoever was about to come through it.

"I love you, Vi. I've always loved you." He spoke as if he'd never be able to tell her again.

"I know," her voice was strained. "I love you, too."

Silence descended around them like a heavy fog, an oppressive chill, befitting the approach of the Grim Reaper himself.

Klaus flinched, taken aback, and he glanced at his sister. Her face was ashen, pale as death.

A figure strode into the chamber then, his silhouette all hard, sharp angles. Light glinted against the buttons on his long coat, the barrel of a revolver. But they only saw his shiny, shiny eyes.

 


	27. Olaf

Disclaimer: standard.

Warning: incest, violence, implied violence

* * *

 

 

Olaf

"Arson, like bombing and various other forms of terrorism, is the crime of a coward. It is perpetuated by a person (typically a man) who wants to strike out but does not have the

courage…to face his intended victim nose-to-nose."

~ John Douglas, _The Anatomy of Motive_

* * *

 

"Baudelaires…How very unexpected." The voice, the hollow cordiality, put paid to any doubts they might've harbored. Gleaming eyes narrowed, settled on Violet. "What a pleasant surprise."

A wave of sickness washed through her.

Klaus shifted his position, trying to block her body with his own. "Olaf," he growled.

Eyeing Klaus' gun, the Count trained his own weapon on the girl, and he leered at her nearly exposed form. "Drop it now…or say goodbye to your sister."

Beneath the piercing glare, Klaus stood still and tense. Years of living by his wits had taught him well: a confrontation was their only chance now, their last hope. To surrender the gun would mean his death, and a fate worse than death for his sisters. He had no intention of complying.

"I'm waiting," the smooth, menacing voice scraped at his nerves and Klaus wanted, more than anything, to end him. If it weren't for Violet…

A sharp, cutting rage gripped his chest, a terrible fear, but instinct told him to stand firm. _He can't shoot her_... _he needs her…_

"You're bluffing," he said, with more confidence than he felt. "Violet is your key to the fortune. Without her, you've got nothing"

But Olaf only clicked back the hammer on his gun. "You don't want her blood on your hands, do you, boy?"

"I've already got blood on my hands." Klaus leveled his pistol at the villain, raised it slightly, to show the red stains on his shirt. Gerard's blood. He knew, now, that he could kill a man. And he would do it again, for Violet, without regret. "He's dead," he said darkly, nodding toward Gerard's corpse in the outer tunnel. "Put down your gun, or you'll join him."

A sinister smirk formed on Olaf's face. "Have you forgotten your other sister? I know you would not leave her behind. Why, I'll wager she is somewhere in this very cavern."

"You're wrong. She isn't here."

"She made a deafening debut only moments ago."

"No. It was a recording."

He took aim at Violet once more. "When I find her, she'll serve my purpose just as well. I will simply have to wait for her to…come of age."

Klaus could feel the blinding rage again, like bile in his throat, threatening to choke him. But he kept the gun, and his gaze, steady. "She isn't here, and you won't find her."

"Oh Sunny," Olaf called in a singsong voice.

The elder Baudelaires bristled.

"Come out, come out wherever you are. You don't want your brother and sister to die, do you?"

Silently, Klaus willed her to remember her promise, to stay in hiding. He held his breath as the seconds ticked by, but no sound came from outside the chamber, no clattering of rocks, no shout in answer. And Sunny did not appear. _Good girl._ "I told you," he said. "You won't find her."

"You're already dead, orphans. You're dead to the all the world. Who will miss you, hmm? Who'll search far and wide to discover your whereabouts? " His voice was rich with triumph, scathing. "Who will ever find you here?"

Violet stared him down, her mind spinning, searching. _The last bolt…I have to get it loose…_ But she didn't dare to move, not while his eyes were on her.

"You didn't expect to find us here, together, did you?" Klaus baited him, to draw his attention and his anger away from her. "You didn't plan it that way."

Olaf was fuming, composure deserting him as his face turned a dark shade of purple. "I could dispose of you two, just as I rid myself of your meddling parents!"

"I don't think so." Klaus remembered that look, remembered seeing it, just before he'd been struck across the room in a fit of violence. He'd been so young then, scarcely more than a child. _Let him try it now._ "You killed Uncle Monty, Aunt Josephine and the others up close, in person...You didn't do that with our parents." He felt the full weight of the villain's glare then."You couldn't even face them."

"Ha!" The Count retorted. "Your parents were insignificant, the most unworthy of opponents. I did not see fit to grace them with my presence before they died."

"You were afraid of them, just like you're afraid of us. You've always been a coward."

"Afraid? Of you children?" He scoffed. "Ridiculous!"

"Then why try to keep us apart? You might as well face it," Klaus said. "We've beaten you every time. You've had all the advantages, all the power. No one listens to us, and still, we've won. We're stronger than you, Olaf."

"Enough!" Olaf advanced on him. "Do you think I won't eliminate you both now? Are you so eager to leave your little brat alone in the cold, cruel world, with no one to turn to... but me?"

Violet fought back a sob, tears clouding her bruised eyes.

Aching inside, Klaus tightened his grip on the pistol. "You won't be able to kill both of us before I drop you."

"Perhaps not," he said smoothly, and there was malice in his smile. "But one is quite enough, wouldn't you agree?"

He was gloating, the smug cat who'd finally caught the canary and deigned to toy with it a bit before making the kill. "Do you believe that I need her? You are the one who needs her, boy. Without your sister, you're nothing." He sidled further into the room then. "I'll take one of you with me. Who shall it be, hmm?"

The boy looked at him with undisguised contempt, and Violet screamed "Shoot him, Klaus!"

There it was- the third option; the path they would choose, no doubt.

He expected nothing less from the Baudelaires.

Klaus felt the knife twist deeper, the pain wrenching in his stomach. _He's right…Either way, my life is over..._ Olaf knew his worst fears and weaknesses, knew that he couldn't live without Violet. And her voice decided him

Shots rang out, just as before, once, twice, and this time, Klaus felt the pressure of the trigger, the recoil force as he fired, the tremor in his hands. His aim was good.

Hit in the chest, Olaf staggered back, bracing himself against the far wall near the entrance.

But, as Klaus and Violet watched him, he did not fall. In fact, he was grinning. And he burst out with a laugh that made their skin crawl.

"Be prepared for any eventuality, I always say." He opened his coat then, to reveal a bulletproof vest, the useless shots dotting his chest like two misshapen silver dollars. "Did you really think that little stunt would work?"

Klaus looked to his sister, at a loss. He was out of bullets, all but disarmed, and Olaf was still alive. _I'll have to rush him…_ She shook her head, as if she'd sensed his thoughts. And he knew that she wanted him to run, to try to save himself. _I'm not leaving you, Vi._

"Now," Olaf stepped forward, overt self-satisfaction in his every move. "Where were we?"

Klaus straightened his shoulders, unyielding. He would not stand aside.

When the focus shifted off of her, Violet scrambled to dislocate the brass bar from the headboard. The pain made her dizzy, her breaths coming in strangled gasps, but she couldn't give up. She saw Olaf heading toward her brother, and then, with a start, she felt it. The last bolt was hers.

 


	28. Secrets and Lies

Disclaimer: standard

Warning: incest, violence, implied violence

Trigger Warning for rape threats

* * *

 

Secrets and Lies

_"I will not kill thee now. I will kill thee if thou dost not call Adzuma hither to meet me in this same room. She shall confirm what I have told thee; and then thou shalt give her to me, or die."_

_Adzuma; or, the Japanese Wife: A Play in Four Acts_

"I am strong against everything, except against the death of those I love."

~ Alexandre Dumas, _The Man in the Iron Mask_

"Where no hope is left is left no fear." ~John Milton

* * *

 

He'd waited so long, planned it all so perfectly, and now, at last, the time had come. The Baudelaires were here, exactly where he wanted them, and if his machinations were not entirely the cause, who would be the wiser? People seldom bothered to look below the surface. They were content to believe the image, the façade, to accept appearance as reality, unquestioned. It made them easy to maneuver, easy to waylay, and deceive, and kill.

He had used that assumption, time and again, as an actor, as the mastermind of countless ploys, and it had always served him well.

That is, until he'd encountered them. The Baudelaire orphans.

No one else had seen through his charade, only these children, who were supposed to be mere pawns in his grand strategy to obtain their fortune. How many times had they spoiled things for him? How many times had this boy stood in his way?

The air was thick with tension, with a near-violent panic. They feared him now. They were his, and they would give him everything…everything he wanted…before the end.

He relished the thought.

It was all too marvelous, too perfect. Even the plan's defects and failings had worked to his advantage.

A smile crept across his face again.

"I must thank you for dispatching that one," he said. "You've saved me a great deal of trouble." And he sighed exaggeratedly. "Good help is so hard to find."

"Gerard was working for you all along." Klaus held him off, striving to think, to delay the inevitable outcome of this pernicious game.

"Indeed," his grin widened. "He provided…assistance…on the day of the 'ferry incident.' The very day you orphans 'died.' You remember, don't you? Your ruse on the docks? You thought to seize the opportunity, no doubt. Stage your deaths." His shiny eyes darkened then. "What a shame that vessel couldn't stay afloat with a bomb planted in its hull. And to think, I was so looking forward to your arrival."

Klaus swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. _He's an egotist. He wants to talk…so I'll let him._ "How did you do it? How did you find us?"

Olaf ignored the questions, apparently engrossed in his speech. It almost seemed that he'd rehearsed it. "You were supposed to arrive on the docks, with those VFD vermin. I had arranged quite a welcome for you. A handsome reward for whoever would intercept you, or inform me of your whereabouts. The criminal underworld was simply galvanized with the news. That is, until someone became a trifle too ambitious. He sank the ferry, and his…prospects, as it were. I gave him a just payment for his little mishap." He waved the revolver slightly, as if to emphasize his meaning. "How fortunate for me that you could only come ashore on that one, lonely stretch of sand." And he pulled something from his pocket flaunting it at Violet. "You left this behind."

Black satin, a scrap of fabric…Klaus heard his sister gasp behind him. _Her ribbon...He found it…_ His heart dropped through the floor. _That's how he knew…he knew that we survived…_ "What about the train wrecks? And the freight engineer? You were behind all of that, weren't you?"

This time he got an answer. "Oh no, my dear boy. No. Your liaison agent Murdock orchestrated that debacle. He had intended to spirit you away on a freight engine. The engineer was one of them. The VFD." He spat the word. "He was to rendezvous with your company, and take you to your final destination,"

"Ah," he paused for a moment, obviously enjoying the sound of his own voice. "The VFD. So enigmatic, so secretive. The two agents had never met before. I merely posed as your Agent Murdock, and convinced the engineer to talk to you, knowing you couldn't pass up a ride out of the city. But I changed Murdock's orders, told him to take you in the opposite direction, in the event that you should turn up... And you did." He took a step forward then. "My plan was simply brilliant in its execution…until you all jumped ship. A most dangerous idea."

Klaus was only half listening. His eyes scanned the ground briefly, a glance here and there, and then he felt a constriction in his chest. The kitchen knife…a few inches in front of Olaf… almost at his feet. _He hasn't seen it yet_. He looked up quickly. "How do you know all this?"

"Gerard spied you on the trolley. He followed you to the train station, where he promptly lost sight of you. Would you believe that he thought to collect a reward, after such a miserable performance?"

"It's no more than you've done."

A snickering laugh, and Klaus could feel the blood rushing to his head. What did any of it matter, now that he'd caught them?

"He called again, not three months later. As rumor had it, his mother meant to sell the house, complete with his underground…operation. He'd returned to spy on his old home, you see, to ensure that his little workshop remained… hidden, shall we say? And what did he find, but you orphans. Imagine my surprise."

"You paid him to bring Violet down here." There was a barely-veiled fury in his voice.

Cruel, remorseless eyes gaped at Violet again, and a blaze surged in him, a renewed strength. _He can't have her…I won't let him…_

"As I have not yet come into my fortune, I had to offer something else that would…entice him. So I told him he could have you first, my dear."

She forced herself to meet his gaze, swallowed down the horror and revulsion. He had done this. He'd offered her to Gerard in payment…as if she were no more than mere property, to be bartered. As if she belonged to him…

"Of course, it was never my intention to keep that part of the bargain. But no matter- I'll have plenty of time to make it up to you, after we are married."

Klaus' fists were clenched at his sides, his face a mask of anger.

"You'll be my loverly bride, once and for all," Olaf declared imperiously. "I've arranged for my troupe to meet us in town, with a justice of the peace. That is, once you are of legal age."

She shut her eyes, but she couldn't suppress the chill, like ice water in her veins.

"I was to wait here until your birthday, when that imbecile was supposed to bring you to me. But he was far too impatient. Now, he's left us with two whole days to... kill." He snickered again, basking in the control he now possessed.

"And so," he went on, "to ensure that nothing goes awry this time, you and I shall consummate our union in advance. You see, my dear Violet, I intend for you to be mother to my offspring as well. A child is a far more permanent link than a mere scrap of paper, wouldn't you agree?"

Anguish pierced her at the thought. _I couldn't take my own life then, or run away…not if it meant leaving my baby…with him…_ There would be no hope for her then, not even the smallest chance. _The police won't help me, they won't listen…And if he's the father…_ Darkness flickered at the corners of her mind, looming in again, to claim her. It would be so easy, far better to go now than to…

 _No_...She blinked then, forcing it away as she grasped the bolt. _No._ She felt so dizzy, her body burning up with fever. But Olaf was still there, still threatening her brother, and she had to try…

His eyes narrowed as he looked pointedly at Klaus. "Would you destroy your sister's progeny, your own flesh and blood, as you did that marriage certificate? I think not. But then…" He sneered. "You won't be interfering with any of my plans again."

Klaus didn't move a muscle, didn't even dare to breathe. He was going to die here, shot by the degenerate fiend, the monster who'd hunted his family for years, and now had finally won.

He thought of Violet, her spirit all but broken, and of Sunny, waiting for him, trusting him to come back…These would be his last thoughts, his sisters and his failure...

"No! No, please!" Her voice hit him like a jolt. "Don't hurt him! Let him go, please! I'll marry you, I'll give you the fortune-"

"And what else?" Olaf cut in, visibly amused. "What else would you give me?"

Klaus felt his stomach lurch, a knot in the center of his chest, but he forced himself to be still, to hide it. Olaf was intently observing his reaction.

"I…I'll give myself to you. That's what you want, isn't it?" He could hear the pain etched in her voice. "I'll do it."

Violet saw her brother cringe, saw him struggle with himself, and she couldn't bear it anymore. She was doing this for him, to save him. Didn't he understand?

And she wondered if this wasn't the greater cruelty…a slow, excruciating end for the both of them, piece by piece. _There's nothing else_ … _I can't let him…_

He felt his jaw clench, his eyes clamped shut as a fierce agony stabbed through him, more severe than anything he'd endured. She was offering herself to the devil incarnate in exchange for his life.

Olaf didn't miss the flash of grave pain in his face, and he studied the boy with renewed interest. Through all the years of pursuit, he'd dreamt of this moment, imagined it in his head a thousand times. He'd expected humiliation and resistance and pleading… yet this was something else entirely.

He saw the intransigence, the obstinacy the boy had always displayed in "defending" his sisters. It would've been laughable, if he weren't so irritatingly persistent.

But now, there was a distinct and unmistakable difference, a new element…possession.

"You look at me as if I were a usurper, boy, about to steal something of yours. Tell me…" He gestured at Violet. " _Is she yours_?"

"No," Klaus glared back at him. "One person can't own another."

"Ahh, but it pains you to hear, does it not? That she would give...herself...to me." He enunciated each word with dramatic flair, as if he were performing a monologue on stage. "And all because of you. Have you nothing to say to that?"

The brutal ache wrenched in him again, and he tried to fight it, to think on something else. But all he could see was Violet, with the monster in front of him...taking her, hurting her, forcing her to...

Flames ignited in his mind like sparks in dry timber. And his eyes betrayed him.

"So it is true!" Olaf cackled with sadistic glee. "Brother and sister, in love. And I thought Gerard was merely fantasizing. How marvelously perverse!"

Klaus bowed his head, heartsick. He'd inadvertently revealed their secret, and given their most implacable enemy another way to make them suffer _._

Moments passed before he looked up once more. Olaf was grinning at him.

"Stand aside, and I'll grant you your miserable life. If you refuse, I intend to shoot your limbs, one by one. And then, your stomach- a slow, painful death, I assure you."

He could hear Violet sobbing, struggling with her restraints.

"You'll have to look on as I ravish your loverly sister. I should think it will be the last thing you see."

The boy's eyes were cold rage, and Olaf was enjoying it to no end.

"Now," he sneered at Violet. "Let's begin, shall we?"

She shrank back, the cuffs biting into her wrists.

"Don't you remember, my dear? I always get what I want."

"You can't have her!" Klaus launched himself at Olaf, tried to grab the revolver, and he sent the both of them crashing to the ground.

There was a loud shot, a puff of dust as the bullet slammed into the dirt, mere inches from his head. He took hold of the gun barrel, nearly wrested it away, when a sharp, paralyzing pain tore through him... A powerful shock.

He heard Violet scream, but he couldn't move, couldn't even turn his head.

Olaf tossed him aside then, staggered to his feet. He still held the gun, but there was an object in his other hand now. Some sort of stick, with prongs on one end…

He cried out as Olaf jabbed him in the side, another searing jolt, a higher voltage. He realized what it was then. _An electric prod_ … _a picana…_

His mind was reeling uncontrollably, his body on fire with pain, and she was screaming…

He concentrated on the sound, to keep himself from blacking out. He had to get up, to get the knife…

But another voice invaded his thoughts, harsh and winded.

"You will concede. You will leave her to me."

"No!"

Olaf shocked him again and again, kicked him hard in the stomach. And the revolver came back into view.

"No! Stop! Stop it!" _He's going to kill him…_ Violet pulled at the chain, at the brass bar. "Just leave him," she sobbed. "Leave him alone!"

She knew only too well what a device like that could do. At the highest intensities, they split tall trees in half… And he had used it on her brother…

Klaus wouldn't survive another barrage.

He was lying there on the cave floor, face down, as if he'd lost consciousness. She refused to think on the alternative.

She heard a deep chuckle then, a bone-chilling laugh. And she saw Olaf turn, the shadows shifting as he slipped the revolver back into his coat. He was coming for her now.

Klaus was shaken by the sound, roused awake, but he tried to keep his breathing shallow, to lie still.

Memories wafted over him, pages from a book on wild bears, the giant grizzly… and how to live through an encounter with one… _You can't outrun them. You have to play dead..._ _If he thinks that I'm unconscious…_

"Violet, Violet, Violet…" Olaf stood above her, his tone condescending, scolding. As if she were a wayward child… a silly girl, who knew no better. And he meant to teach her a lesson.

"It's for your own good, my dear." He raised a hand to her face, as if to pat her cheek, but he grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her toward him.

"You've been compromised," he said. "Tainted. Despoiled. But I'm willing to overlook all of that." His eyes scoured over her body, her bare legs, and she wanted to spit in his face. Only the thought of Klaus kept her controlled. "Who else would have you now?"

His breath wafted over her, like reeking filth… worse, even, than Gerard. And his hand gripped the side of her neck.

"We shall be very happy together, once you learn the meaning of respect."

All at once, another loud, shrill, scream pierced the air. Sunny's voice… as if she were in trouble. "Let go! Let me go or I'll bite!"

Maybe her screams weren't a ruse at all, maybe she'd been captured…

Violet glanced to her brother, frantic, but he hadn't stirred.

 _Sunny…._ She felt herself die a little more inside. Olaf had lied about the troupe being in town. _He must've lied._ And they had her baby sister. Her spirit sank into the depths, crushed in the awful weight of resignation. It was all over for them now. He had won

But his look of alarm gave her pause. He hadn't planned to meet anyone else here, in the cavern. _Only Gerard…and he found us instead_ … _Maybe it isn't them…_

Olaf stared out, away from her, his eyes fixed on the entrance. It couldn't be his troupe. He hadn't divulged the location to them, and he hadn't been followed.

Had someone else wandered into the tunnels, merely by chance? Had the authorities, against all odds, finally caught up with him?

He released Violet then, striding past her brother, to the broader tunnel outside.

She looked to Klaus again as the light passed over him, saw his arm tense, ever so slightly. _He's only pretending_. _He's awake…_

Olaf peered into the darkness of the tunnel, holding the lantern, his back to the alcove.

Klaus reached out to grasp the knife handle, silently, turned to lie on his side. He could feel his head ringing, a crippling pain in his entire body, but it didn't matter. He forgot himself, forgot everything else, when he caught her eyes.

His life meant nothing if he couldn't save his sisters.

And there was nothing left to lose.


	29. The Best Laid Schemes

Disclaimer: standard

Warning: incest, violence, *cannon character death*

Trigger Warning for rape threats

* * *

 

The Best Laid Schemes

"Arbitrary power is like most other things which are very hard, very liable to be broken."

~ Abigail Adams

"In this world let me have my world, to be damned with it or to be saved."

~ Richard Wagner, _Tristan and Isolde_

 

* * *

 

Shadows danced around them as the lantern swung about outside the alcove, discordant sounds hammering inside his skull…. a staccato of trickling water, a ringing in his ears, and his own labored breaths. It was a splitting headache, too much, too loud…He clutched the knife handle, sure that the monster would turn around at any second.

His head swam, his muscles screaming as he forced them to move, reaching for a crag in the wall. With a grim certainty, he knew that he wouldn't stand a chance…not in his current state, and with only a kitchen knife. And if someone else was out there, in the tunnel…

 _No…_ He couldn't let himself think that way. Even if the troupe had arrived, even if they'd discovered Sunny's hiding place, they wouldn't be able to reach her.

He could remember their first confrontation with Olaf, and she only a baby… _She bit him_ … And then, under the porch, little more than an hour ago...Sunny didn't give a warning, didn't hesitate to defend herself _. She'll bite first… and… ask questions later._

Yet, she had threatened to bite whoever found her…

Realization dawned on him then. _She's safe…she's still safe. She was trying to help us._ His brilliant little sister.

He tried to stand, nearly lost his balance, and he leaned against the wall to steady himself. His vision narrowed, the world coming back into focus. And he could see a thin trail of light, seeping into the chamber, a tall, sinister form, looming in the entryway.

_Olaf…_

He had been arrogant enough to think he'd won…to turn his back on them…

_It's not over yet._

Klaus set his sights on him, the knife heavy in his hand. He was no soldier, no broad-shouldered combatant; he felt half-dead already, as if his lungs were on fire. But he wouldn't stop, could never be deterred from this…not when Violet needed him.

And he knew, now, that he could kill.

Olaf still carried the electric prod, still wore the body armor on his chest. _I'll have to outmaneuver him... I need a plan, but there's no time._

And then he remembered.

The medical texts in his parents' library… a detailed sketch…the blood vessels in a human arm… _That's it…_

It was all he could do, all he could hope for- to deal a fatal wound, to free his sisters, before he would die.

His mind flashed to Violet then, to all that she'd been through at Olaf's hands… A wave of strength came over him like a cold wind- like clarity, raw and stringent.

_He's not going to touch her again._

* * *

 

Violet could see him there, waiting in the shadows, the silver gleam of the knife at his side.

She struggled with the bolt once more, her arms aching with the strain, and she felt it give a little. _Almost…almost there..._ The cuffs clinked against the metal bar then, jangling.

She held her breath.

But she saw Olaf turn, felt his eyes on her again. _He heard it_.

A dark shape darted past her suddenly, colliding with him, and she could only watch in horror…It was all a blur...

Her brother, stabbing with the knife, slashing at his arm…Olaf lunging with the prod, swinging blindly…

The lantern dropped, rolling to the side, and the light flickered. She couldn't see him anymore…

"Klaus!"

There was a crackling burst of electricity, of metal and blood.

Violet screamed as her brother was thrown to the ground.

Olaf pulled out the revolver, his heavy breaths rattling in the air. He cast a sidelong glance at his torn coat sleeve. And then, he blanched. Deep gashes stained his inner arm, below the shoulder, blood streaming down his side, to the floor.

Klaus felt the jagged stones beneath him, the wall at his back. There would be no escape for him, nowhere to run. But he was done with running. _We all are, if I did it right…_

"That's your brachial artery," he said. "You're bleeding out fast."

In disbelief, Olaf looked from the cuts to the boy who'd inflicted them with such deadly precision. It couldn't be…he was too close…He was in control.

But his life's blood was pouring from him, even as he stood there.

"Very well," he ground out, almost wheezing. "Didn't I say… I'll take one of you with me?" His eyes were manic, black with madness. "You've made your choice."

Klaus shut his eyes, braced for the impact of a bullet.

But it didn't come.

There was a loud, metallic clang, a shriek as something slammed hard into Olaf, knocking him backward. He staggered, bent in half under the attack, the round he'd fired too late blasting his ankle. Before he could move, a sharp blow to the head sent him crashing, to land with a resounding thud.

Blinking in shock, Klaus tried to find his bearings. Blood was everywhere, spattered on him, and the rocks and ... "Violet," he gasped, wide-eyed.

She was like a statue, the brass pole from the headboard clenched in her hands. Shudders wracked her body then, the bar fell, clattering, and she faltered.

He caught her as she collapsed, eased her down beside him. "Vi, it's okay, it's okay," he said, ignoring the pang in his shoulder. "It's over." But she seemed deaf to his words.

She was freezing… He found his jacket, draped it around her shoulders, but still her body shook. He gathered her close then, to warm her, resisting the urge to crush her in his arms.

He could see her drifting, fading in and out, her eyes haunted, shrouded in horror. "Violet…Vi, stay with me. "

She clutched his arms, wild-eyed and terrified. "You have to get Sunny. What if she…if she's…"

"She's still hiding," he said. "I'm sure of it. She's safe, Vi."

"Just find her, please." She burst into sobs.

He ran a hand over her hair, kissed the top of her head as she huddled against him. "It's over," he said again. "We're safe now. Violet, we're safe."

His eyes fell to Olaf then. He had to be sure…

"Vi…" He took her face in his hands, gently. "I'm going to get Sunny. I'll be right back."

"Klaus, I don't want her to see this…I don't want her to see us…not like this…"

He sighed, his shoulders heavy with the weight of renewed guilt. How could they prevent it? _We can't just leave her out there_.

As one, they turned to look at Olaf's crumpled form…the lifeless body of a monster. For too long, they'd been running from him, fearing his return. And now, there he was...a broken shell of a man… a pitiful figure. But he had nearly destroyed them all.

It seemed impossible that anyone could be so terrible in life, so prolific in cruelty. How many bodies had he left in his wake? How many lives had been ruined by his lust for power, his greed?

How many people had he killed, to get to them?

Slowly, Klaus disentangled himself from her, and he picked up the revolver. He checked the body for a pulse, felt nothing. But he had to be sure.

He squeezed the trigger, unloading the gun into Olaf's head, until it was empty. Once, twice, and he lost count, barely aware of the sound.

It was over.

The monster had her ribbon, tucked in the inside pocket of his coat, along with a bottle opener and a set of dangling keys. One seemed to be the proper size for the handcuffs. It couldn't be a coincidence. _He had the key. He had it all along…_

The guilt intensified when he looked to her again, the burst of gunfire still ringing in the cavern. _I should've warned her_. But she only returned his gaze, numbly.

"He's dead, Vi." He couldn't believe the words, even as he said them. "He's dead."

Fear singed him when she didn't answer. _She's going into shock._

His hand brushed against her arm, carefully, to remove the cuffs. "Let's get these off."

Bone-deep bruises lined her slender wrists, made him wish that dead men could be killed again. Scarcely an inch of her skin had been left undamaged.

She felt the cold, biting metal lift away, her palms tingling at his touch, as he rubbed the circulation back into her fingers. She remembered those hands…sliding over her, into her…

Her senses returned in a rush, like a splash of water. Gray stone walls and dim, flickering light…the smell of blood prickling at her nose. Klaus was there, holding her, and she hadn't imagined it. He was real.

And, all at once, she knew what they had done.

Her fingers twisted in his shirt. "We're murderers, Klaus."

"No, we're not," his voice was firm, his eyes intent on hers. "We're not like them. We're not murderers."

"What are we, then?"

He felt a pain in his throat. It hurt too much to see the ache in her, the inner grief and torment.

"Alive," he said. "We're alive."

She closed her eyes then, sinking gratefully into his arms. It was over.

 


	30. Departures

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, implied violence, character death

Trigger Warning: mentions of rape

* * *

 

 

Departures

"He plainly perceived the truth: from then on she would be the basis of his life, so long as she were there, so long as he had her with him, he would need nothing except her and fear nothing except on her account. He did not even feel cold, even though he had taken off his coat to cover her."

~Victor Hugo, _Les Miserables_

"If we do not find anything pleasant, at least we shall find something new."

~ Voltaire, _Candide_

"Luck affects everything; let your hook always be cast. In the stream where you least expect it, there will be fish."

~Ovid

* * *

 

Time was silent in the empty darkness. They had only the faint, fading glow of the lantern…no day, no night, and no way to tell the difference underground. Klaus couldn't say how long they'd been there, on the cold, bloodstained floor, holding onto one another.

They were battered and bloody and numb with exhaustion; stunned, glassy-eyed shock settling over both of them. And his mind hovered at the edge of a precipice, leaving him bereft, until he lost all awareness of their surroundings… of everything but her.

She was his anchor, the tether that kept him from falling…her body, warmer now, in his arms… the scent of her hair. She still smelled of field grass and sun, the running creek water, and their times together in the dark. She was still his Violet.

"I had to do it, Klaus," her voice was a whisper. "I had to."

"I know," he said gently. "I know, Vi."

Her quiet sobs left him distraught, and he didn't want to leave her, couldn't stand to lose sight of her ever again. But they had to think of Sunny...

He felt the chilled air, the tomb-like stillness of the chamber, and he had the sudden, unnerving impression of being buried alive. _We can't stay here._

A fierce, cramping spasm shot thorough him, and he shut his eyes, urging it to subside. It was agony even to move, his muscles stiff and sore, as if he'd aged into an old man already. He drew a deep breath, to summon the last remnants of his willpower, but that only caused a burning ache in his chest again. _It's nothing,_ he told himself. _Just wait…it'll pass._ And he tried not to notice that his hands were shaking, as they splayed across her back. "I'm taking you out of here. We'll find Sunny together."

She could only nod, tears stinging her eyes at the thought of their small sister. Sunny was out there, all alone… not knowing whether they were alive or dead.

He saw the gash on her forearm then, and she felt him groan.

With some effort, he set her back from him. And he removed his shirt, sliced a swathe of fabric from it, for a bandage. _It's only a flesh wound_ , he realized. _It's not_ _life-threatening._ The blaze of anxiety cooled in him. _She'll be okay._

He tied the cloth around the cut in her arm, to stop the bleeding, and her breath hitched sharply.

"Vi, I'm sorry." He took her hand in both of his, but she didn't flinch, didn't seem to feel it. She was staring… wide, stricken eyes locked on his bare torso. "Violet?"

He glanced down, suddenly understanding. She hadn't been concerned with herself at all.

His heart sank, and immediately, he regretted ever taking off his shirt _._ The last thing she needed was to worry about him.

She felt faint, sick with anguish at the blistering red burns…the evidence of torture on his body. Large, angry welts spread across his back and chest, seeping blood. And she knew just how painful it must have been for him, to hold her. "Klaus..." She had to turn from the sight.

But there was carnage all around them, death and horror and vicious brutality. She was breathing too fast, couldn't get a gulp of air…

He cupped the side of her face, lifted her chin. _Look at me_ , he told her silently. _Don't look at any of that, just look at me_.

His eyes were soft and so, so deep. But she couldn't forget the hideous, cackling laugh, the flare of the electric prod, or the dark form towering over him, with a smoking gun…

He'd fought an armed man with his bare hands for her. He would've died slowly, in excruciating pain, rather than abandon her to Olaf. And he called her brave.

Tears streaked the dirt on her face. "You should've let him have me."

"Violet!" The thought was like a bruising kick, a crack in his ribs. "How could I?"

"He might've spared you."

" _Spared_ me?" His thumb grazed against her cheek, wiping her tears away. His voice was softer now. "It would've killed me, Vi."

"Don't." She pressed her fingers to his mouth. "Don't Klaus, please."

She didn't want to talk anymore, only wanted Sunny and a way out of the cavern. "We have to go," she said. "I just want to go."

* * *

 

They tried to tend to each other as best they could, before their little sister would see them. Violet pulled his tattered shirt around him, hiding his injuries, and he helped her slip back into his jacket. He buttoned it closed, tied the remnants of her nightdress at her waist, like a sarong. But the thin material hardly covered her.

It wasn't enough. Her skin felt cold to the touch, and he was almost tempted to get Olaf's coat for her.

"I don't want it," she said, noting the worry lines in his forehead, his sideways glance at the body when she shivered. "I'll be fine, Klaus. I’d rather be cold."

She couldn't wear that coat, tainted with his blood, with the rancid stink of him…It would be like having him close, next to her skin… She felt repulsed, lightheaded.

And a part of her wondered if she weren't just as ruined. She could almost hear his smooth, sickening voice, hissing in her ear. _"You've been compromised, tainted, despoiled…"_ Her hair was chopped and jagged, barely chin-length, her body wracked with chills and a deep, throbbing pain. _"Who else would have you now?"_ She choked back another sob.

Klaus brought her in against him then, her head on his shoulder.

She felt him wince at the contact. _He shouldn't…I'm hurting him._ But he didn't let her go.

His hands pressed into her back, calming the tight knot of fear in her, and she sighed. He was her strength, far more than he would ever know.

She found his hand after a long moment, tried to pull herself together.

Sunny needed them now.

* * *

 

Klaus set the lantern outside, in the tunnel, and he carried her with him, away from the chamber. She hid her face in his neck, to keep from crying out. But he could feel her trembling. He'd taken his share of punishment, but her injuries were far worse, and he struggled to keep himself upright, to avoid jostling her. Each step was like a brutal stab. "Hold on, Vi. We're almost there."

He had no trouble locating Sunny's hiding place. Violet waited on the ground by the far wall, a mere, few feet away. He tore his eyes from her, reminding himself, for the fifth time, that Olaf and Gerard were dead. Irrational or not, the fear still grated in his mind. But he had to get Sunny.

There was a hurried, scrambling sound as he called to her, dust and pebbles falling around him, and he saw a little blonde head, peeking over the edge of the shelf.

She was there, his baby sister, and he'd never been so glad to see her in all his life.

Her face lit up when she saw him. "Klaus!"

He helped her down from the ledge, hugged her tightly. "You were brilliant, Sunny. You saved us." A sharp ache ruptured in him as she squeezed him back, but it was nothing to the sheer relief of finding her again.

"Did we stop them?"

"Yeah," he sounded hoarse. "We stopped them."

"Where's Violet?"

"I'm here."

They looked up, in the direction of her voice, and Sunny let out a cry, reaching for her sister. This time, he didn't hold her back.

She threw herself into Violet, and they embraced each other, hard.

For an instant, Klaus thought he should step in. Violet might only hurt herself more. But he felt a catch in his throat, watching them together.

Sunny touched the shortened strands of her hair, wide-eyed, but Violet only gave her a sad smile. "It's alright, Sunny. It'll grow back." The little girl snuggled deeper into her arms then.

Her green, green eyes came to rest on his, over Sunny's shoulder. "Thank you," she mouthed silently.

There was a dignity in her, an unfailing strength, even now…so beautiful that she took his breath away.

She was an incredible woman.

The blood pounded in him as he thought of Olaf's taunting grin, his plans for her…for all of them.

He'd treated Violet as a commodity, an object to be bought and sold and traded… _Or stolen..._ His sister, offered up like a piece of meat to a rabid dog.

And when she'd tried to bargain…

That memory would scar him worse than the burns on his body.

But they hadn't succeeded in breaking her, not for all their efforts. They were dead now. And if anyone else so much as dared to try…

He swallowed, feeling cold again. Olaf had left a cloud hanging over them, a bounty on their heads, and his death wouldn't change that fact. _Not until the word gets out…if it gets out._

Every thug and lowlife within a thousand miles would be after them for the reward he'd promised-a cut of their fortune. They would still have to run, still have to hide, but the danger was less now, at least. _He's dead…he and Gerard_...

No one knew their secret. No one would ever suspect that they'd live in disguise, as a married couple with a little daughter. It was the perfect cover… unheard of, unthinkable to most people…too scandalous even to consider.

And those people would be shocked further still to know the truth within the lie-what he felt for Violet, what they were to one another. The love was real, even if nothing else in their lives would be.

His family could hide in plain sight now…they had a chance. And he couldn't regret the pain searing in his chest, the things he'd done to make them safe.

In that moment, he knew exactly what he'd been fighting for.

* * *

 

Escaping the cavern proved more difficult than any of them had expected. Klaus studied the ladder, seeing it clearly for the first time. He'd been distracted earlier, nearly out of his mind, and he hadn't realized how far underground they were. Violet would never make it. She was too drained, unable to hold onto him for more than a few seconds. And with her injured leg, she wouldn't be able to climb on her own.

"We can't go up the ladder," he said, returning to his sisters. "We'll have to find another way."

Violet closed her eyes as a splitting headache pierced her again. _It's my fault. If I were stronger…_ As much as she dreaded it, she knew the most rational course of action. He should leave her behind, he and Sunny, to find help. But she saw the flash in his eyes, the fight in him, and she couldn't bring herself to argue. _He won't go without me._ That assurance warmed her, even as she blamed herself for their predicament.

And then she thought of Gerard. _He did this for years, without anyone knowing. And Olaf got in somehow…_ "Klaus, there must be another way out, at the other end." She heard him take a deep breath again. "We broke in through the ceiling before. We never found it."

"Yeah, but that means we have to…" He stared into the black expanse of the tunnel. It was like a gaping mouth, an endless void. "…we have to go down there."

Olaf's keys jangled in his pocket, kindled a memory in him, and he was almost afraid to hope… _He didn't walk here- his shoes were too clean. He probably drove._ What a stroke of luck that would be, to find a car waiting for them on the outside. _If we ever get that far._

But they couldn't trust to luck, not at all…

He sighed then. _It's our only chance._ He had strength enough to carry Violet, whatever the distance. Nothing in the world would convince him to leave her now.

He asked Sunny to bring the lantern, and then he lifted Violet into his arms.

She could barely hold her head up. "Sunny stay with us, please," she said, "and keep your eyes on the tunnel, straight ahead."

Klaus had Sunny walk at his right side, keeping her as far as possible from the alcove, and Gerard's body.

But she caught a glimpse of a blood trail, spreading along the ground near their feet. The entire cave reeked of it, reminding her of the barn, when they had been locked in. And Roderick… Her stomach hurt again.

"Sunny!"

She snapped her head up quickly.

"Eyes forward," his voice was rough. "Come on."

"I know," she said, annoyed. "I don't want to see it anyway."

* * *

 

The tunnel seemed to go on forever, miles and miles, although it took them little more than half an hour to reach the end. Sunny clambered up the roughly-hewn stone steps, to the rusted metal door at the top. It was too heavy for her to move alone.

When her brother finally caught up, still carrying Violet, he helped her to push it outward.

She poked her head through the opening then, into a gray, rainy night, and cool, fresh air. The door had been built into an embankment, hidden by a patch of thick shrubbery that scratched her skin. In the lantern light, she recognized the wooded area where they had found Roderick, and the grassy fields just a few yards ahead.

Klaus followed her through the underbrush, to the field, and he dropped to his knees. He laid Violet down before he collapsed beside her, gasping for breath.

A soft rain was falling, gentle on their skin, and it revived them slightly. "We did it," he said. "We did it, Vi." He felt her hand in his, clasped tight around his fingers, and they lay together for a moment, letting the rain wash over them. It was a wonderful feeling, to breathe freely… like seeing the sky for the first time.

"Hey!" They heard Sunny then. "Look over here!" She was perched on a rock nearby, with the lantern, pointing at something…

He managed to sit up. "What is it, Sunny?"

And then he blinked. He could barely make out the shape of a car, a dark blue sedan, parked in the field some yards away…with a trail plowed behind it, where the grass had been flattened.

He produced the key set, pushed the automatic lock mechanism, and the car's lights flashed.

_A stroke of luck..._

He almost grinned at the irony.

Who would've thought they might be glad of Olaf's presence? That he would ever bring them anything but grief?

Before they could stop her, Sunny dashed over to the vehicle, shining the lantern inside. "It's all clear!" She shouted, and Klaus called her to come back.

He cast a glance across the fields, saw the light bobbing toward him as she ran _._

Violet pulled herself up, painfully, and he slipped a supporting arm around her. _She needs a doctor._ "Vi, you should rest. We have time to-."

"No," she said. "If l lie down any longer I won't…won't be able to stay awake."

Another sharp pang darted in him. _She thinks she'll be too heavy for me…dead weight…_

"It's okay," he said. "I've got you." And he held out the ring of keys, to show her. "It looks like we won't have to walk anymore."

The three of them bundled into the vehicle, with Sunny in the back seat. Klaus gripped the steering wheel, trying to recall everything he'd ever read about driving. He had done it before, three times, in Ethie's truck on the farm. _She asked me to drive out, to repair the fences_ … Violet had stayed in the house on those days, mired in domestic chores, leaving him the only one with any experience.

But, even if she had come with him, he doubted that things would be any different now. She'd been hurt so badly… _I have to do it_.

The car lurched forward as he pressed the gas pedal, unbalanced on the rough, muddy ground. After a few tense stops and starts, he found that he could maneuver it with relative ease.

The tire tracks led them to the road, once he'd turned the car around, and from there they made their way back to the farmhouse.

They paused in the driveway, unsure of their next move. All was quiet, but for the slight pattering of rain.

"We need the suitcase," he finally said, with a glance at his sisters. "I'll be back in a minute." With that, he bolted out of the car, leaving them with the doors locked, the ignition running.

Violet watched him go, her eyes never leaving the house. The seconds ticked by torturously, until he stood at the car again. He was holding their bag, and an armful of something else…

Hurriedly, they opened the doors, and he jumped back into the front seat, half aware that he'd been holding his breath the entire time.

The locks clicked shut, reassuring all of them.

She saw what he had then. _Our old blanket_. The one they'd forgotten in their first rush to get away, the one they'd used when… _So many memories…_

It carried the scent of him…of the both of them, clean air and the outdoors, and the old horse Sunny had so loved. She hadn't realized just how cold she was, until he draped it around her.

But then the guilt set in. He'd brought nothing for himself- that would've required stealing from Ethie. _And he gave me his jacket._

Her thoughts drifted to the kindly woman who had given them work, and a place to stay…and then left them to the predations of her evil son. Did she know what a monster Gerard had been? And what he'd said...

"Klaus." She touched his arm lightly. "I think Ethie is in trouble. He said she wouldn't be back."

"Do you believe him?"

"I don't know," her voice was soft, so low that he could barely hear her. "He…he said that about you, too."

He told her what he'd seen with the spyglass…Ethie's truck, stalled out on the side of the road.

"She might still be alive, Klaus. What if she needs help?"

"We'd be taking a risk," he said. "What if the police are down there? Or the troupe?" His eyes shifted from her to their little sister. "I think we should get out of here."

"Not if it means leaving her to…" She closed her eyes briefly as another spasm hit. She knew how it felt, to be alone, beaten to within an inch of her life… and believing that no one would come… "Klaus, we have to try."

"Okay," he sighed. "We'll drive by. But if she's hurt, we're taking her to one of the neighbors. They can call the authorities." He didn't want to show his face in town, not with the prospect of arrest hanging over him. And definitely not in Olaf's car… _If the troupe isn't there now, they will be soon. They'll find us._

She had thrown them into the snake pit, let her murderous son run rampant without batting an eye, all while accusing him of... He tried to swallow down his anger. _If she needs help, we'll do what we can._ But he wasn't about to imperil his sisters for her.

Ethie's truck appeared in the headlights as they drove down to the scene. Klaus stopped the car, with the lights turned on. He shared a glance with Violet then.

The sun was just beginning to come up, the rain like a torrent now, and he exited the car quickly.

Violet gathered Sunny into the front seat with her. But she couldn't take her eyes off of their brother. His shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his forehead against the side of the truck. Sunny cried softly and she stroked her hair, tears blending with the rain on her skin. She hardly felt them anymore.

* * *

 

Klaus came back, soaked and shaken, and Violet tried to give him the blanket. He would have none of it. "That's yours," he told her. "You need it."

"Klaus, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No…you were right." His hand was ice-cold in hers. "I don't think she even made it into town, Vi. She was going for the sheriff. He probably ambushed her right after she left…to stop her."

The little girl pulled at his shirt sleeve, her eyes red-rimmed. "Can we cover her? Please?"

"We can't," he said regretfully. "If we move her, or leave any sign that we've been here, the police might think we did it." _Or someone else could pick up our trail…_

"But we didn't!" She sniffed. "Why doesn't anyone listen?"

"We can send an anonymous letter, once we're far away from here," Violet said. "We'll tell them about her, and…and the others."

When the downpour let up slightly, Klaus made a last run into the house, for more blankets and towels, food and water. _I'll pay for everything later,_ he told himself _. If she has any family left, I'll find a way to pay them back._ Either way, they needed the supplies, and she was gone…

He wouldn't hesitate to take a few things now.

A short time later, warm and dry in Olaf's car, the Baudelaires said a silent goodbye to the farm.

It had been a small corner of happiness in their world, however briefly. Violet knew that she would never forget it, or the way her life had changed that winter morning, when he'd kissed her up against the wall…

His voice distracted her then. "Here you go, Sunny." He handed something to their sister, in the back seat.

_The book of folktales…of course._

Sunny tried to hug his neck from behind, nearly strangling him. "Thank you!"

And Violet felt warmer still.

By hook or by crook, her little family had survived.

The road waited there, before them, open and unhindered. And tomorrow, she would be eighteen.

 


	31. Aftermath

Disclaimer: standard

Warning: incest, implied violence

Trigger Warning: mentions of rape

* * *

 

 

Aftermath

"We live, not as we wish to, but as we can."

~ Menander

"The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each other."

~Mario Puzo, _The Family_

"Before I settle into the room, any room, I check my gut. Do I feel safe? The casual eye could assume I have something to hide. And actually, I do: myself. If I hadn't learned how to hide, I wouldn't have lasted this long."

~"Kate Brennan," _Stalked_

* * *

 

Pain...it shot along his spine, skewering in the back of his skull, blinding him. He could barely open his eyes. Murky darkness surrounded him here, dank dripping sounds like a pounding gong. He could see a circle of amber light just beyond. It spilled over the brass bed frame… the fetid mattress, and the monster there, with her…

_Violet!_

His shout was stifled by a cloth gag, his wrists bound behind him, secured to a chair somehow. Panic surged in him.

He heard a loud slap, the voice he hated more than any other. "Silence!"

Her eyes sought his for a flickering instant, which brought her another sharp blow.

He couldn't let this happen, couldn't let her do it. _Not for me._

Long, spindly fingers stroked the side of her bruised face, her hair. But there was nothing of gentleness in the hollow eyes, the cruel, twisted grin bearing down on her. "Tell me, who's the best of all?"

"You," her voice was little more than a breath. "You are."

A hand squeezed her jaw in a violent clutch, and he wanted to break free, to fight for her... "I can't hear you."

She was crying- hard, wrenching sobs that shattered him inside. "You are! You're the best."

"Now, be a good girl," the slithering voice came again, "and I won't have to kill him."

He managed to work the gag away then.

"Leave her alone!"

There was a deep, chortling laugh, a muffled scream…

"Get off of her!"

All at once, time screeched to stop, like the squealing brakes on a car. He felt Olaf's scathing glance on him then. _That's it. Take me. Leave her and take me._

He welcomed the renewed beating, the blinding pain of the shock-prod. Anything for Violet…anything to keep him away from her…

He felt a gun barrel, jammed into his forehead, heard the hammer click into place… and she was screaming…

A train whistle sounded then, somewhere in the background… _A train?_

He heard it once more, another whistle, with a heavy rumbling, like a stampede. It jarred him awake. _What…Violet…_ There was cold glass against the side of his head…a window…The gray walls retreated, fading into pale light, the scent of rain and burnished leather.

He was in Olaf's car.

And then he remembered everything.

Violet was there, nestled snugly against him, her legs draped across his lap. He glanced to their clasped fingers, the arm he'd slung around her waist, keeping her as close as he dared. He let go of her hand, felt her flinch as he relaxed his hold. Even the slightest touch hurt her now. _We shouldn't have stopped._

But she had been so insistent. _"Klaus, please, you need to sleep. You're not a machine, you know_." He'd finally put away his fear for her and parked on the roadside.

 _I must've nodded off_. _She was right._

For nearly fifteen hours they'd been on the road, following a map Violet had found in the glove box. Olaf hadn't left them stranded, at least. _He was well-prepared for travel. I wonder if…No…_ He focused on the scene outside the window, let the question dwindle away. It didn't bear thinking about.

They were on the outskirts of a city now, after bypassing several smaller communities, where they'd argued over stopping. She had been dead set against it, and in the end he couldn't disagree. Strangers garnered too much attention in those sleepy, little towns… especially strangers doused in blood, with an unbelievable story to tell.

He saw the outline of tall buildings in the early light, layered in rainclouds and thick, billowing smoke…the issue of countless chimney stacks in the industrial district. It was a depressing scene, gray and dismal, but the bustling urban crowds were exactly what they needed. They could blend in here, anonymous, unless they chose to be otherwise…

He felt a twinge then, the part of his mind that was always concerned for Sunny. In the corner of his vision, he saw her, wrapped in blankets in the back seat. She was fast asleep, with the book under one arm and a slight, contented smile curled on her face.

He studied Violet once more, drinking in the sight of her…every detail. As if he could ever forget the shape of her nose, the delicate curve of her neck, or the way she fit in his arms.

She was beautiful. She would always be beautiful to him.

He was suddenly conscious of the barely-healed cuts on his hands. They would be rougher now, calloused and scarred, and it might remind her… What if she only thought of the nightmare, the intense horror and pain, when he touched her? Would he evoke fear in her from now on?

The memory of her screams rocked him again. He could almost see the revolver in his hand, could almost feel it, as if he were still locked in that moment…the rattling explosion of gunfire…shot after shot… until there was nothing left of life in the bloodied corpse at his feet. It had been a strange feeling, almost satisfying- to be assured that the monster was gone, once and for all.

But Olaf still shadowed them, even now. " _You'll never be free of me."_ He suppressed a shudder.

A light touch glided down his arm then, the warmth of her fingers. "Klaus?"

Her hand was in his hair, pushing it back gently, and she derailed his train of thought. He felt her eyes on him, soft and pained and altogether uncertain.

They shared a long gaze then, a hint of a smile.

_Happy birthday, Vi._

Her head found the crook of his neck once more, and he felt her sigh. "We have to go to the hospital, don't we?"

 _She hates hospitals_. It would be yet another trauma, the last place she wanted to go, but what else could they do? A private doctor would never be able to provide sufficient care-not for her injuries. And who could they trust, in any case? Of all their unpleasant options, it was the least precarious choice.

His grim silence was answer enough.

"We can't pay for it, Klaus."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "They'll have to see us anyway. It's the law." He let his hand rest at her waist, tucked the blanket closer around her, carefully. "You need to go in, Vi."

The thought sent another wave of pain through her. "So do you," she finally said. "We'll have to call Mr. Poe and…tell him." She leaned in closer, pressed her face into his neck. "I don't want to tell him, Klaus. I don't want to tell anyone."

He felt his heart wrench, realizing what she meant. Surely, she would never reveal the details, or the killings… but that wouldn't prevent the backlash that might follow. They would have more than bounty-hunting criminals to contend with, if anyone learned of the assault on her.

"Respectable" people could be just as predatory- veritable sharks when they scented blood in the water. Some of them would blame her for it, if the other accounts he'd read were any indication. They would drag her name through the mud. And once the papers seized upon the story…

He swallowed, tried to ignore the raw burning in the pit of his stomach. A single thought, one certainty, made it all bearable. _We killed them_. The men who'd done this to her, the monsters, would never breathe again. "It's okay, Vi. You don't have to. I'll talk to him, if you want. He just needs to know that we're here and… we're still alive."

 _Alive._ The word revived images inside her head, even as he spoke, sent her back to the dark, horrid cave they'd so narrowly escaped.

Her eyes held that faraway look again, the one he knew too well, cloudy as the air outside. She seemed impassive, eerily calm, and anxiety spiraled in him. He almost wished that she would cry or scream or crush his hand in a death grip; something to show that she hadn't lost herself…that he hadn't lost her.

His hand drifted to her side, the pocket of his jacket, which she still wore.

"Hey." She felt his voice in her hair. "Look what I found."

There was a black ribbon in his hand, curled around his fingers… dirt-smudged and frayed, but unmistakably hers. He hadn't forgotten…

"Klaus…" Tears sprang into her eyes. "You remembered." She slipped her fingers around his, lifted it away. "I didn't think… after what happened…"

She felt his arm around her, the warm closeness of his body, his strength. And she wanted to kiss him, as she had so many times before…

But the images were there, like a flood, against her will… the faces, the lusting eyes, hard and pitiless, hollow in their sockets… And the way Olaf had smiled at her…

She recoiled, pressed herself into the far corner of the seat. She could still feel the monsters' breath, their vile hands on her body. How could she ever think of being with him, now that she was stained?

Her brother backed off, to give her space. And he wondered, yet again, if he'd hurt her. "Violet, I…" His hand brushed over her shoulder, but she cringed, drawing further back.

"Vi?"

She stared out the passenger-side window, her slight breaths fogging the glass. She couldn't look at him. But the sight of the tall buildings, the banks and shops and businesses, sent another jolt through her. Would they still have an inheritance? What if someone else had taken their money, after they'd gone missing, presumed dead? She turned back to him then. "Klaus, do you think something's happened to the fortune? When they thought we were..."

"No," he said quickly, not missing a beat. "The bank would need proof that we're...that we didn't survive the accident. They can't do anything without it, Vi. They can't give our fortune to anyone else."

How did he know just what to say, to set her mind at ease? She could have sworn that he'd read her thoughts. _He sees me._ And she felt it once more, the ever-present pull in her heart, the tie that kept her beside him. Their bond was firm and unbreakable, sealed by fire and pain and misfortune… by love.

And he loved her, of that she had no doubt. If there were no money, if there were nothing else, he would still love her.

_Even if things can't…can't be the same._

Whatever the road ahead, they would have each other.

He saw the light in her eyes, her spirit, and all at once, he knew that she with him. She would always stand with him… no matter what horrors threatened to take hold in her mind _._

But all their talk of "proof" and evidence made him suddenly aware: they were sitting on the one piece that could implicate them in a murder. _And we're not murderers._ It had been justified, unavoidable really, but no one would listen. No one ever listened.

"Vi, we can't let anyone find us in this car. We have to get rid of it."

She glanced at the keys as he started the engine, and she nodded slightly.

"I think I know a way," she said. "If we can manage it."

* * *

 

The streets were in transition in the early morning, the city waking from a long night as the lamplights blinked out and party-goers left for the comfort of their beds. The Baudelaires were no strangers to the urban night world, the drunk revelers and street walkers and rowdy dance halls, the dubious persons who lingered in the shadows. They'd seen it all before.

Soon the market-goers would arrive, the laborers in their dusty boots, the well-dressed men and women off to window-shopping or another day at the office.

But few people were about now, the streets deserted, but for the taxis that cruised by every so often, in search of customers… and a hard-scrabble, shady-looking character, heading down the sidewalk, in their direction.

It was an opportunity they couldn't pass up.

He came upon the sedan, left unattended on the side of the street. How unusual, to find such a high-end car in this neighborhood, without the protection of a garage, or even an alarm. Especially a car with open windows, unlocked doors, and the keys still in the ignition…

There was no one else nearby. No one to catch him in the act. He looked at the car nervously, and then glanced around, as if he suspected a trap. And then he grinned, as if he'd just stumbled upon a gold mine.

He didn't notice the three sets of eyes in a dark side street, watching him. The Baudelaires peered out, from around the corner of a building, relieved as he drove away. They hadn't been seen.

"It worked!" Sunny chirped. "Now we'll never see it again!"

Violet hushed her quickly, just in case someone might hear. It had seemed far too easy to her. "I hope you're right, Sunny." She winced then, at another sharp pain, holding her side. Klaus helped her to sit.

The wall still shielded them from view, for now, but he knew that wouldn't last. In a few, short hours, their identities would be uncovered, and bounty-hunters would be the least of their problems. The media would be clamoring for a glimpse of them, for the details of their story. _We'll have to move, when this is over… We'll go somewhere far away, where no one knows about us._

But his courage withered as he examined her again. There was blood on her, despite the bandages, and he didn't want to think about where... _Violet…_

It would kill him, sure as guns were made of iron.

He drew a deep breath. "Stay here," he said. "I'll be right back."

With a last look at the both of them, he forced himself to step out, to flag down a taxi.

They were going to the hospital.

* * *

 

Klaus sat outside the glass window of their assigned room, his eyes drawn to the empty bed where Violet had been only moments before.

He'd nearly lost control when they said she needed surgery, when he'd seen the fear in her eyes. And then they'd taken her, where he couldn't follow, and there was no choice, nothing but to let them…

It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

He glanced at his pocket watch, for what must've been the tenth time, although he'd long since lost count. _It's been an hour. What are they doing in there?_ And then, with rising panic, he thought of Olaf… What if she didn't really need this surgery? What if it was all a lie, part of some conspiracy to- _No._ He couldn't let his mind go there, to the worst parts of their childhood. _She's been hurt. That's not a lie. It makes sense that she'd need surgery , after what…what Gerard did to her…_

It all but crippled him, to remember.

He closed his eyes then, reminded himself that he couldn't break down. He had to get through this, to put on a brave face for Sunny.

She was in the chair beside him, trying to read, but he knew that she felt the strain as much as he did.

Mr. Poe had arrived, after a very tense phone call, and a long lecture on the many inconveniences they'd caused. He hadn't known what to do with their money, since no one had found their bodies, and they couldn't be declared legally dead. The fortune was still untouched, after all.

Ever the good banker, he was speaking with the hospital staff now, trying to work out payment. Klaus didn't much care what it cost, or what they were saying. He just wanted to lay eyes on Violet again, to know that she was safe.

A nurse came by, with a kind smile, seeing his distress.

"You needn't worry," she said. "She should be here at any moment."

But he barely heard her.

He saw a doctor, an eagle-eyed woman he'd met earlier, with Violet on a gurney, heading toward the room. He stood, made to go in after them, but the doctor barred his way.

"You'd best wait here," her voice was terse and cold. "She's been through quite enough for one day."

As if he needed anyone to tell him that.

He felt the unspoken accusation, the contempt in her tone, and he sighed. He was a suspect again.

 _She probably thinks that I'm responsible_ … _that I hurt Violet…_ A painful dizziness swept through him, left him shattered inside. _It is my fault. I failed her._

Through the window, he could see Violet talking with the doctor. He had thought she would be weak and sleepy after the surgery, but he recognized the look on her face. They were arguing.

And it seemed to him that she was on alert, deathly afraid of something…

"She's asking for you," the doctor told him curtly, exiting the room.

He hesitated for a minute, looked at Sunny.

"I'll be okay," she said, guessing at his thoughts. They were so like her mom and dad.

The youngest Baudelaire could scarcely remember her parents. Feelings and images came back to her, in fragments- a flash of jade green fabric, or a deep, booming laugh. But when she tried to picture them clearly, to see their faces, she always thought of Violet and Klaus.

For most of her life, they'd been the ones who loved her and took care of her...the ones who'd taught her everything. She loved them best of all. And, if her memories were darker than most children's, they were also filled with warm hugs, and sail-cloth forts, and stories before bed.

She felt wonderfully secure and glad, to know that they were in love. Her family would never be split up now.

And if Klaus and Violet wanted a few moments alone, well, that was just something grown-ups did from time to time. Her parents had, from what little she recalled. They had gone away to Europe, and he would only be in the next room. It didn't bother her in the least.

"Thanks, Sunny." He squeezed her shoulder gently.

She watched as he went to Violet, and he sat with her, taking her hand. They were visibly at ease with each other, as if they'd been suffocating, unable to breathe, until now.

Sunny realized that she wasn't the only one staring in the window.

Two lady nurses were there, standing to her left, with soft smiles on their faces. And Mr. Poe as well, although he looked flustered and uncomfortable.

One of the women sighed dreamily. "Did you ever see a more likely pair of turtledoves?"

"Of course not," Mr. Poe sputtered, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. "The very idea!" And he excused himself hurriedly, to make some phone calls.

"Don't be silly," said the other. "They're siblings. Haven't you heard?" Sunny listened closer as she lowered her voice. "They're the Baudelaire orphans."

She felt them glance at her, but she kept her eyes on her book. It was rude to eavesdrop, after all. Even if they were discussing her family.

"Well, I daresay," the first one went on, "anyone would've taken them for sweethearts."

Sunny only smiled to herself, flipping to the next page. No one knew better than she did. _They are._

* * *

 

The next days were a whirlwind of activity. A crowd of news reporters and photographers gathered outside, and Mr. Poe had spirited the Baudelaires away, to avoid the publicity. Violet had dreaded the media attention, more than anything else, and she'd been grateful for his help… self-serving though it was. _He didn't want us talking to the papers._

She couldn't fault him for that. He'd arranged a house for them in another city, another new address, but this one was different. It was theirs, if only for a while...a red-brick cottage, on a smart, tidy little street, where children learned to ride bikes in front of the houses where they were tucked in at night. Two bedrooms, and a small den, sparsely furnished.

But they didn't plan on staying much longer. _Only until the bank transfers our money into certificates_. _It's already been three weeks._

Mr. Poe had said that he would need a few more days, at least. Then, the three of them would be traveling to Europe, to safeguard their money in Switzerland. Her brother had been brilliant to suggest it. Vast, impersonal, and willing to accommodate their need for secrecy- the Swiss banks would be the best place for their fortune. _And they have so many international connections…we can live anywhere._

She took a sip from her hot tea mug, looking at her sister, through the front window. Sunny was with a group of kids from the neighborhood, playing marbles and hopscotch on the sidewalk. No one would've guessed at all the horrors she'd encountered. She was just a little girl, like any other.

The scene brought tears to her eyes.

But the sound of their games was also a glaring reminder… She thought again of the hospital room, the doctor's voice, cold and clinical. A list of test results, all negative-she'd caught no diseases at least. _"That's lucky_ ," the nurse had said. _Lucky…If she only knew…_

She would never have children.

Despite all her reassurances to Klaus, she'd often wondered how it would be- to live as others did, to be a mother.

Even those faint imaginings had darkened now. They'd left nothing unscathed. _He wanted a child from me- a hostage_. Little did he know that he'd killed that possibility forever, sending Gerard to… She shut her eyes for a moment, forced herself to breathe, to be strong. _Better no children than one of his._

But a deeper part of her knew that she would've loved the baby, no matter where it had come from.

_No children. Not ever._

She felt the sting of those words, in passing, every time she saw her brother with Sunny. The two of them were already partners in raising her, parents in all but name. _He's wonderful with her._

It was shameful, really, a scandal beyond anything they'd yet done. But, in her heart of hearts, she longed to share that with him again. She wanted another baby… _his_ baby.

It had been out of the question, a fantasy, even before the assault. And now…

Now there was no chance at all.

 _I suppose I should be glad. We don't have to worry anymore._ He could stay with her now, all night if he wanted to, and she could keep him… But he hadn't touched her in so long. _Not in that way…not as… more than a sister_. She swallowed a sob.

They spent every night together now, in bed, in each others' arms. She needed him then, most of all… his lean, strong frame against her body, his hands at her back. It was an inexpressible comfort, just to be still in the quiet, listening to his heartbeat.

Without him, she'd lay awake all night, unable even to close her eyes. And if she ever did manage to fall asleep, she woke up screaming.

They left the lights burning low, to drive back the night terrors, but sleep didn't come easily for either of them now. She couldn't help but feel ashamed at her vulnerability, her absolute need for him. But he never complained. He stayed awake with her when she couldn't sleep, talking when she wanted to, holding her against his chest while she cried.

The hospital had been nearly as awful as the rest of it. The doctor had tried to keep him away, blamed him, at first. And she had been so terrified of what they might do...

 _I told them we didn't know who attacked us... It was a stranger._ She hadn't allowed anyone to call the police, hoping to keep the matter story, and out of the public records. She didn't have to fake her embarrassment over the whole, humiliating process either- that was no lie.

Officially, her unnamed assailant would never be caught, never prosecuted for his crimes. But she had no fear of him, and no need to file a report. He couldn't harm anyone now.

Klaus had seen to that.

A blush rose in her at the remembered pleasure of his hands on her body, possessive and strong and so, so gentle…the way he kissed her when they came together. She missed him, missed the taste of his mouth, the blissful heat as he moved in her slowly…so slowly…

He was nothing like the others, with their blatant sense of entitlement, so arrogant and violent and…mechanical. She still couldn't speak of what had happened in the cave.

But her brother knew. She didn't doubt that he knew.

He practically leaped of bed every morning, to shower, before she could even blink the sleep from her eyes. Always in such a hurry...as if he couldn't get away from her fast enough. He carried so much guilt. _That's why he stays. He thinks that he owes me something._ She could feel the tears threatening again. _I'm just an obligation to him now._

More than once, she'd seen him stifling a yawn, or beginning to nod off over his research, and she knew that it was her fault. He was beyond tired, trying to take on the weight of her pain, when he already had too much of his own. _It isn't right…we can't go on like this._

Her fingers found the outline of the long, thin gash on her arm, tentatively. The scars would always be there, a memory of those horrid days… of _them_. Her injuries had healed, but she would be forever marked. _"Tainted…despoiled…"_ The sinister echo came again, the sound that never left her thoughts entirely.

Surely he saw her defilement now, the stain, when he looked at her.

How could he ever forget, when she couldn't?

* * *

 

Klaus glanced up from his seat at their small dining table, as he sorted through the contents of a large manila folder. Mr. Poe had given it to them, before he'd left, without explanation. The Baudelaires could only guess at what it held.

So far, he'd found their parents' birth certificates and college degrees, as well as various travel itineraries. He hadn't thought there would be so much paperwork. _This is going to take a while._

He could see Violet by the window, her eyes on their little sister, and he watched the emotions play across her face…warmth and pride, grief and regret, the wistful thoughts and memories that pained her still.

The cloud of sorrow never seemed to lift from her, not even when she taught Sunny how to weld, or worked on perfecting her most recent invention-a modified printing press. They had come upon it, discarded behind a print shop, a few blocks from the house. It was sitting in the den now, in pieces. _She'll have it working before long._ With a printer of their own, and the templates he'd found with a few trips to the library, they could forge any identification documents they'd need. At long last, things were falling into place.

But Violet still worried him. She was thinner, pale and drawn, and she'd been so quiet of late.

They would soon be far away from here, if he had anything to say about it. He wanted to move them to a warmer climate; a place where they could breathe and rest… where Violet could recover.

Europe would never do, not for a permanent residence. The VFD still had a strong presence on the Continent, and so many people had known their parents… _We can't live there, or stay for too long. Someone will recognize us._ But they would have no peace in the States either.

He heard a voice from their past then, like a recording in his head. _"That's why Peru."_

 _Uncle Monty…Maybe he had the right idea. We could go to Peru, or Costa Rica or Belize..._ Tropical regions, all, with sizable expatriate communities… " _People who'll understand us, who are like us…"_

He sighed. Who could possibly understand what his family had endured, or what they'd been forced to do? His eyes returned to Violet then. _There are no people like us._

She hardly ever spoke of her nightmares, never had come to him until that night, after Gerard appeared at the farmhouse. And he wouldn't press, wouldn't try to force her. _She's not ready._

He didn't know if she would ever be ready. But he knew Violet, knew her strength. She was trying to bear it alone.

He ached to be close to her again, to stem the tide of haunting images in her mind, the pain in her eyes. But every time he reached for her, she tensed up. She didn't want to be touched. _Or maybe it's me._ He felt a pain in his throat. _Maybe she doesn't want me._

He'd never felt more alive, more complete, than when she kissed him, pressing herself into his arms, in invitation…and when she said his name…

Those memories were like a cancer now.

She had suffered too much, and he wouldn't be another source of pain for her, another one of _them_. He had no right to pressure her, or make demands. Her life was her own- she could do as she wanted.

And, with their inheritance, she could have anything…

Would she still want him, after all?

_I can't be sure anymore._

At night, in the shelter of their bed, it was different. She curled herself against him, her body crushed tight to his as they slept. And she would let him hold her.

He never could sleep unless he was holding her.

But his restraint was fraying, stretched paper-thin as he willed himself to sleep each night… when all he wanted was to touch her, everywhere, to taste her skin, and relearn the angles of her body with his own…

He'd made a habit of taking cold showers every morning, to quiet the urges. He'd resumed his old plan of long runs and push-ups and other fitness tasks that left him physically exhausted.

But no amount of diversion could help him now.

 _It's okay_ , he told himself. _I can wait._

He would do nothing more until she asked him to.

A paper on the table caught his eye then, snapped him back to attention. _Montreal. That's in Quebec…_ When had their parents been in Canada?

"Vi?" He hated to pull her away from the window, from Sunny, but he had to know. "Did you ever hear Mom and Dad talk about Canada?"

"No," she said. "I don't think so, Klaus. Why?"

"They have a safety deposit box in a bank in Montreal."He pulled out a small key, in a clear plastic bag. "There aren't any accounts up there. What were they hiding?"

He tilted the folder, and another small plastic bag fell out. They both stared, thunderstruck, although there could be no doubt as to what it held. Their parents' wedding rings.

He opened the bag , the small, white-gold bands light in his palm. They still gleamed bright, untarnished, even after the fire and all the years…

His eyes found hers, and he could see the color in her cheeks, the same thoughts stirring in her mind. A look passed between them then, awe and tenderness and an ache so deep it could never be assuaged

In that moment, she almost believed that nothing had changed.

He seemed about to say something, but she saw the hesitation in him, the indecision… as if he couldn't find the words. He faltered, glanced down at the papers, and he set rings aside.

A lead weight settled in her heart. _He doesn't want me anymore. He never will._

She slipped out to the front porch then, so he wouldn't see her cry. _Not this time_. And she scanned the street and the surrounding houses, quickly. On the outside, nothing seemed amiss.

Sunny was still running about with the other children, as happy as you please…unaware that her family was unraveling at the seams. Violet sat on the first step, leaned her head against the railing. At any other time it would've made her smile, to see her sister in such high spirits. But nothing could lift the shadows from her now. _She doesn't need to know. Not yet._

She hugged her knees, to ward away the chill she felt inside.

All the world was cold without her brother.

 


	32. The Other Side of the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's life on the other side of the fire.

Disclaimer: standard

Warning: incest, sexual content

Trigger Warning: mentions of rape

* * *

 

The Other Side of the Fire

"Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it."

~Helen Keller

"Few were the living hearts which could unite like ours, or celebrate a bridal night with such close sympathies…The gentle might of earliest love and all the thoughts which smother Cold Evil's power now linked a sister and a brother."

~ Percy Shelley, _Laon and Cyntha_

"The dream was always rushing ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle."

~Anais Nin

* * *

 

The nights were too long, held too many memories and visions and voices.

Violet had spent most of the last two weeks working on the printer, or studying the document templates Klaus had drawn up from his research and the papers their parents had left behind. There were so many plans to make and problems to solve, before they could even hope to leave the country.

She gave the wrench another turn, to tighten a lever on the printing press, and she sighed, brushing back a strand of hair from her eyes. It was forever falling in her face now, too short to be tied up in a ribbon.

Still, she couldn't deny that her new hairstyle had its benefits, however unintended. They hadn't been identified since the hospital, and only then, she suspected, because Mr. Poe had told the staff out of necessity. Without recent pictures circulating in the media, no one would recognize them. _As long as we don't go out in public together._

They'd done it once, nearly a month ago, to explore behind the print shop late one night. Even then, there had been a close call with a patrol car. _Once is enough._

Her brother had gone on his own a few more times, to find the information they needed in the library. It didn't make sense for all of them to go- it would only increase their odds of being discovered. But she'd been overwrought with worry, counting the seconds until he returned, hours later. He couldn't take any of the books with him, not without a library card. And for that, he'd have to give a name and address…

She reached for a nearby rag to clean her hands, careful not to stain her dress. It wouldn't do to think about their limitations now.

_I haven't even started on the passports yet_.

The clock on the wall told her it was nearly two in the morning, but she hadn't counted on sleeping tonight.

Her mind was fractured, splintering, and if she didn't occupy it somehow…

They always came for her in the dark, in the moments just before she shut her eyes- the monsters. She could see them even now, like the undead… Gaunt faces and rotting flesh… decayed skin stretched grotesquely over skeletal hands…reaching for her…

She rose shakily from her chair, laying the wrench aside. The doctors had repaired her leg, with only a small, rounded scar to show that she'd ever been shot. But she couldn't stand now, couldn't take a single step, and she sank back down again, hiding her face in her hands.

Klaus and Sunny were trusting to her ingenuity-they needed her for this. She had already broken more laws and rules and social mores than she'd ever thought possible. And if circumstances called her to the art of forgery… _I have to do it, that's all._

It hadn't been mere luck that she'd found the printing press. As a young girl, she'd spent many happy hours hunting for discarded items to use in her inventions, amazed at the treasures people tossed away in the trash. The close proximity of the print shop had been a factor in her agreeing to this house, and in that she hadn't been disappointed.

She had her printer now, and all the parts and gears she could want. But she couldn't get the typesetting just right for the passports, couldn't quite figure how to duplicate the design in Klaus's sketch.

Looking over it again, she spotted a note at the bottom of the paper, a quote that she recognized, but couldn't quite place.

"There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep."

They’d been arguing about it for days on end, and she couldn't help but smile at his latest attempt, the reversal in their roles. How often had he stubbornly resisted when she'd told him to rest?

She sighed again. _Some partner I've turned out to be._

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't run from the truth. Her presence hurt him deeply now.

_We can't stay together, and we can't be apart._

She would have to distance herself, to rebuild the walls they'd battered down somehow. _Maybe, if we could just be brother and sister again… We can still be a family and he…he'll find someone new…_

But to think of anyone else there, beside him, loving him in all the ways she had… She felt her throat constrict. _It's the only way_.

Shadows filtered into her mind then, doubts like a gray fog. Could they ever really go back, when she didn't even know where they'd begun? Could she look at him as a brother and nothing more?

_I don't think so_.

He was the one, the only one she wanted, and pretending otherwise would make her crazy. _But if… if the alternative is to lose him entirely…I'll try._

* * *

 

"Violet! No! You can't have her!"

Klaus jolted awake, with a white-knuckled grip on the pillow beside him.

He blinked at the small, darkened bedroom, as if he'd never seen it before.

"You can't have her," he repeated quietly.

There was no light, but for a sliver of moonlight along the edges of their "curtains"- thick blankets that they'd hung over the windows, to keep out prying eyes.

He could barely see Sunny, on her cot near the foot of the bed he shared with Violet.

She was still asleep, at least, apparently unaware of his outburst.

He would've preferred security bars to blankets, but they'd learned to make do with what they could find. _We'll only be here for two months, at most_ , he reminded himself. And they'd had nearly six weeks without any trouble. _A few more days, and we'll be gone._

But he remembered the last time, when he'd dared to think those words. _It won't happen again._ His hands balled into fists, unconsciously. _I won't let it happen again._ And his mind turned briefly to the one "souvenir" he'd held onto- the revolver-now locked in a drawer in the nightstand. The thought set him slightly at ease.

They couldn't be too careful now.

Even though Violet felt safe enough to let Sunny play outside with the neighbors' children, and Mr. Poe had procured the house for them under a false name, they still had to take precautions.

Violet had insisted that they keep the second bedroom empty, as a decoy. Pillows bunched under the blanket gave the illusion of a sleeping figure, and she'd rigged it with a homemade alarm, just in case.

It was a credit to his sister, to her foresight, that he could sleep at all. Even if she left the gaslight burning in their room every night…

He felt the dark then, like a crushing weight, the cold absence of her body.

_The gaslight…Violet..._

She hadn't been in yet.

The nightmare seized him again, the heart-stopping panic.

_Where is she?_

He tossed the bedcovers off, bolting from the room.

* * *

 

She lifted her head when she heard someone coming, brushed the tears from her face self-consciously.

It had to be Klaus. Sunny was too small to make so much noise. His steps were heavier, measured and steady.

But not now. Now, there was a clanking sound in the front room, he was running, and her eyes went wide. _Something's wrong._

Her brother crashed through the door then, nearly knocking it off of its hinges.

"Klaus, what is it? What's the matter?"

He didn't say a word, just stood there, stock still, his eyes fixed on her as if he'd never look away. Her heart pounded in her ears.

It wasn't like him to burst in so abruptly, unless they were in danger…

_He'll wake Sunny._ She was about to tell him so, but the words left her when she saw his face. He was haggard and pale, his eyes frantic, as if he'd been caught in the grip of some indescribable terror.

All at once, she realized she'd been thoughtless. He couldn't sleep alone any more than she could. _We need each other._

She went to him in an instant, forgetting herself, and they embraced, sinking down to the floor together.

The scent of her body assaulted him, though they were both fully dressed. They all slept in their day clothes now, in case anything should happen...

He clutched her harder, hiding his face in her shoulder. "I can't lose you, Violet. I can't…"

"Shh..." She could feel him trembling violently. "I'm not going anywhere, Klaus. You won't lose me."

Her hands were soothing in his hair, her soft voice reassuring him. She would be there, always, and she'd never, never leave...

Calm settled over him at last, and she pressed her forehead to his, closed her eyes.

She felt the brush of his mouth on hers, like a whisper, the pull of the rhythm in him. And it was so natural, effortless, to flow with it...

He was a cool spring in a parched desert, and she let herself be swept in, holding him as hard as she could.

They fell into a long kiss, soft and slow and so deeply intimate that he felt her inside of him.

But her eyes were wet, tears sliding over his fingers as he touched her face. He'd made her cry.

_She doesn't want this._ He jerked back, as if she'd stung him. _I'm worse than any of them. She trusted me, and I… She trusted me_.

The horror in his face startled her, made her feel suddenly repulsive, where she'd been alive to his touch only moments before. _He remembered._ _Of course, he remembers everything…_

"Vi… I didn't…I shouldn't have…" he faltered. "I won't do it again."

She burst into sobs, turning from him in humiliation.

"I'll do whatever you want," he said. "I'll go. I'll stay and be just a… a brother." He'd never hated himself more. "Violet, tell me what to do."

She forced herself to look at him, tears falling freely. The agony of his answer couldn't be worse than what she was feeling now.

"You don't have to do this, Klaus." Her voice was heavy with heartache. "You don't have to be trapped here with me."

"Trapped?" His brow furrowed, in the way that meant he didn't understand. But how could he not, when he'd just…

"You deserve someone better, someone who won't make you feel so guilty."

"Violet-"

"Someone who isn't… ruined."

"Vi, how can you say that?" He looked at her in awe. "You're not ruined. You're beautiful."

"Then why haven't you…why haven't we…" She shook her head. "I know you can't forget."

He studied her face for a moment, at a loss, her pain tearing at his heart. The words finally sank in then. She thought he'd been rejecting her. _Because of what…what happened, and because I didn't… oh, Violet._ He felt a surge of relief, tempered with a rising sense of shame. _I should've known._

"I didn't want to rush you. I thought…maybe you didn't want me." He could see the tears pooling in her eyes. "I failed you, Vi."

"You've never failed me," she said. "You're my hero, Klaus. If you hadn't…" The skin-crawling revulsion crept over her once more, but she gulped it down. "I wouldn't be here without you."

His scars burned like open wounds as the nightmare resurfaced, but he met her eyes with a renewed determination. _She's not broken_. She never had been.

She was the hero in all of this.

"They lost, Vi. _He_ lost, because you never gave up." His thumb glanced over an ink smudge on her cheek. "Violet, you stopped him. You saved my life."

He raised her hands then, to kiss the thin scars circling her wrists. His palms were scarred too, she realized, rougher than before, but it didn't matter. They both carried reminders of the past, of what they'd survived together.

She saw the glow of admiration in his eyes, the stirring warmth that she'd only ever known with him.

He wanted her.

And it wasn't guilt or fear or duty that compelled him. He wanted _her,_ as if they weren't brother and sister… as if they'd never been apart.

She was still the girl he'd loved all his life, the one he'd given himself to, over and over, with such thrilling gentleness...

The one he would kill and die for.

Somehow, it was easier to accept now- the lengths they'd gone to for each other. And, for the first time in what seemed a lifetime of waiting, she felt strong. _How did I ever doubt this?_

"We saved each other," she said. "That's what we do, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he echoed softly. "That's what we do."

Her hand rested on his heart, and he held it there, fingers closed over hers. "It's yours," he said. "No matter what happens, no matter what they did, it's yours."

"He hurt me," she said quietly, averting her eyes. "He hurt me so much, Klaus. I'll never…I…"

Suddenly, he understood. There was more to it after all. Her loss was even greater than he'd thought. _Why didn't I see it before?_

"You wanted a baby."

The regret in his voice hurt her all the more.

"I did." She could hardly bear to admit it. "I know it's wrong. It's selfish, and I shouldn't, but…I did."

He squeezed her fingers, his free hand at her shoulder. And he kissed her forehead lightly. "It isn't selfish," he said. "It's a part of who you are. You're brilliant with Sunny. No child could ask for a better mother."

But she only shook her head again. "I couldn't do it Klaus, even if he hadn't...even if you and I weren't…" She lifted her eyes then. "It was just a dream."

* * *

 

They built a "fort" with the sparse furnishings in the front room- a shabby couch and table- and the linens from their bed. It was a small sanctuary for the two of them, not so different from the one that had sheltered three lonely, frightened children in a creaky old attic. The world couldn't touch them here.

Violet felt a tug in the back of her mind, a pang at leaving Sunny by herself. But they were well within hearing distance, if anything should happen, and they didn't dare to stay in the bedroom with her. _Not tonight…_

Her dress was forgotten, abandoned in a heap, along with his shirt and trousers.

Low light from the study seeped in through the white sheet walls, and they sat together on a pallet of quilts and linens and pillows.

For a long moment, they could only look at each other, as if spellbound. It almost seemed impossible, too perfect to be real. There were no obstacles between them, no secrets or silent fears.

His hands cupped her shoulders, gliding up and down her arms, and he felt her shiver in her thin chemise. From his touch or from the cool night air, he couldn't tell…

"Vi, I don't mean to push you. If you're not ready-"

She colored deeply, felt her cheeks burning. "The doctor said it should be safe after…after about four weeks."

"The doctor? You mean, in the hospital? "His eyes widened. "You asked her about…this?"

Her mouth curled in a slight smile. "We've waited long enough. I'll be fine, Klaus."

And then her gaze fell to the marred canvas of his body.

There were burn marks scattered across his chest, the irregular pattern of those awful welts, just beginning to fade. But his eyes told her they didn't hurt anymore, that she had no need to hurt for him.

Only the scars remained, and she could see each one for what it was now- a confirmation of how much he loved her.

_We are never broken._

Her mouth found his then, almost shyly, the heat of him so exquisite that she couldn't breathe.

And she wanted everything, wanted to learn him all over again.

His skin rippled under her fingertips, her warm, soft lips at his chest, his shoulders, wherever her hands had touched. "I love you, Klaus." Her voice was a caress. "I don't care who we are or where we go, as long as we're together."

He sat up with her, gripped her waist with knowing intimacy, his hands at her back, her hips. But there was no sense of violation when he touched her, no pain or indignity with him.

A thrill ran up her spine at the contact, rough palms against her skin. She hadn't expected this, the sheer pleasure of his calloused fingers…

He slid the straps of her chemise down her shoulders, felt the slight sway of her body, the curve of her breast under his hand.

She caught her breath.

And then she was in his arms, and she couldn't think at all, couldn't grasp hold of anything but him...

Their bedding was soft, like falling into a cloud, the sheets cool on her fevered skin. She sank back against the pillows, eyes closed, as a warm ache spread through her entire body.

He lingered over the angles of her neck, the quivering warmth, their hips aligned unconsciously, perfectly.

And she was vaguely aware of his voice, just behind her ear. "Your turn," he whispered

He stroked her nipples into rigid peaks, impossibly hard. And he lowered his head to kiss them…one then the other… hungry for her skin.

She sighed at the soft, stroking motion of his fingers, his quiet moans vibrating through her. His mouth was wet, like liquid fire, and he was touching her with the pad of his thumb…

He felt the outline of the scar on her leg, her hand pushing down on his, the smooth, silken heat…

Hearts quickened, breaths harsh and gasping, and he let her control their movements, let her guide him.

They were adrift in a soft sea, in each other. Hard, aching kisses, his fingers pressed deep between her slender legs… And her warm hand was there, encircling him, a gentle torture…

She was so lovely, so vulnerable now.

He buried his face in her neck, willing himself to go slowly, to do it right.

She felt him shudder, felt him breathe her name…

But all at once, her mind descended into flashes of searing pain and blood and terror, and involuntarily, she stiffened.

He froze in an instant, appalled in case he'd revived thoughts of the others. He tried to apologize, but she smiled in reassurance, raised a finger to his mouth.

He saw the haunted look fading, the softness in her eyes, almost painful. And he could scarcely believe that he was here, with Violet stretched out beneath him, loving him.

"I want to be what you need, Vi. I want to be everything you need."

"You are," she said. "Just be who you are."

* * *

 

He spent hours tangled in the sheets with her, worshiping her body, and he knew that he'd remember all of it, every second…rolling her above him… the crush of her hips on his, her tender mouth…the ache of yearning, before he would be inside of her…

They came together so many times that he stopped counting, and she hadn't thought to try. Each one passed into the next, ardent love and desperate need, sweat and heat and skin on skin. And all the while, he never left her.

She lay under him now, lips sealed to his as he rocked with her in slow, deep thrusts.

Her arms caught around his neck, her body rising instinctively, and he lost himself in the gentle waves, the taste of her spirit on her breath.

"Klaus…"

He loved the way she said his name, the way she held onto him, wanting more, always more, and he murmured soft words against her neck, her shoulder.

There was no need to pull away from her now, never again. And he meant to stay always, for as long as she'd have him, until his strength was gone…

Sweet pain raced in the both of them, louder, stronger.

He felt her voice at his ear then. "I'm yours. Say it Klaus, please."

"Mine," he ground out, a deep plunge making her gasp. "You're mine."

"Again," she breathed.

"Mine." Another push, a growl low in his throat, and then…the languid warmth...

She could feel herself floating, weightless in his arms, and she didn't have to be brave anymore, didn't have to let him go…

* * *

 

Morning found them still cradled together, lulled and quiet, a sheet wound around their lower bodies, keeping them as one.

His head rested in the crook of her neck, his arms so strong, and she felt wonderful, complete.

He made to shift after a while, fearing he would be too heavy. But her arms constricted, pulling him back. "Please," she sighed as he kissed her shoulder. "Please, Klaus."

He hid his face against her then, let himself relax as she stroked his hair. She loved him and wanted him, and he could fall asleep here, wrapped up in her.

That thought gave him peace like he'd never known.

Their world had changed in the night, in a moment, just as it had on the beach years ago. A new chapter, a journey's end... He didn't know how to describe the feeling.

It felt like his love for Violet, the warm desire in her eyes- like flying without ever leaving the ground. An awakening of all his senses, a surrender, stunning and strange and wonderfully familiar somehow...

He brushed his nose against hers and she smiled, catching him in a kiss.

It felt like home.

* * *

 

Four days afterward, the documents had been printed, the arrangements made, and Violet stood by the little table in the study, with a stack of folders in front of her. They'd purchased the train tickets under one set of names, the hotel reservations in another, and passage on the ship that would take them to France with yet another. And she had four other sets of tickets, all for trains departing on the same schedule as theirs, if anyone should track them as far as the station. Everything had to be organized perfectly. _We can't afford any mistakes._

They'd taken out a strict amount of cash- enough to travel with, and to pose as tourists, until they found a place to settle. The rest of their money was locked up in certificates, which she had carefully sewn into the lining of a waterproof black valise. It would hold their documents as well, and she resolved to keep it on her person at all times.

They were bound to leave a paper trail of some sort; with the size of their fortune, that couldn't be helped. But it wouldn't be easy to find or follow- she'd made sure of that.

She sorted their forged identification papers into nine different piles, three for each of them. _Nine birth records, nine passports…_ She blushed crimson as she opened the next folder… _three marriage certificates._

They would have no ceremony, no vows, and no justice of the peace, but she'd never cared much for formalities. It was enough just to be with him, to see his face light up when she smiled, the heart-rending look in his eyes. And their little sister's irrepressible happiness...

It almost matched her own.

_We'll be like a real family,_ _even if we can't use our real names._

Klaus had already signed the certificates, she noticed, without being asked. She could've kissed him if he hadn't gone out again. For the third time in less than an hour, she checked the clock. And she forced herself to breathe.

They hated to be apart, especially now. She'd felt the conflict in him, the stiffness in his shoulders when he kissed her goodbye. He didn't want to go.

Neither of them ever said the word, but it was there, ever-present, like a tall, menacing shadow…

_No._ She shivered at the image, in spite of herself. He was always careful, and far less likely to be recognized on his own _._ _He'll be back any minute now._

She saw their parents' rings on the edge of the table then, found the one that had belonged to her mother, as if reaching for some reassurance. Almost unconsciously, she slipped it on her finger. _It fits…_

For a moment, she wondered what their parents would say, if they would be ashamed, or horrified, or-

"Violet! Violet!" Sunny burst into the room, with a pair of black wigs piled on her head, backwards. "I can't see!"

"Sunny, wait." Violet took the wigs from her gently, and she ruffled her little sister's hair. "We can't play with these now. We need them to get out of here." She laid the wigs atop her folders on the table, tried to make them presentable again.

"Sorry…"

The little girl looked chastened, and Violet hugged her briefly. "Did you finish packing?"

"Yeah." Sunny sat in one of the chairs, glanced at the wigs once more. "Will I always have to wear it?"

"No, not always," she said. "Not after we get to…Well, wherever it is that we're going."

"But I don't look like you."

"I think you're a towhead, Sunny. That's what our parents always said. They both had dark hair, you know." She put the wigs aside, on the other chair, and she opened the folder that held Sunny's documents.

"What's a 'towhead'?"

"Someone who has blonde hair when they're small. Your hair might be dark when you're older."

"What about my name? Can I keep my name?"

"Your first name." Violet showed her the birth records she'd made. "This one will be yours, once we're settled."

Sunny watched as her sister brought out the marriage certificates and picked up a fountain pen. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to sign these, Sunny." Violet looked down at the first dotted line, feeling suddenly dizzy. The walls seemed to spin, a high-pitched ringing in her ears. For an instant, she was a girl of fourteen again, under the glare of the stage lights. _I'll never say "I do"… Never…_

Her pen clattered to the floor.

The sound gave her a start, snapped her out of the flashback. She heard a car outside then, someone coming up the front steps, unlocking the front door. _He's back._

Their brother walked in, nearly unrecognizable in a gray fedora hat and a high-collared trench coat. She tipped her head toward him. "You found a car."

"It's old, but it'll get us to the station. There's a rental agency a few blocks over. They didn't even ask me any questions."

Sunny went to hug him. "What took you so long?"

He grinned, taking off his hat, and he placed it on her head. "I had to get a few more things," he said, dropping a newspaper on the nearest chair. "We're still headline news."

Violet sighed. "They don't have pictures of us-that's all that matters. They'll move on before long."

His eyes darkened with concern when he looked to her. Something had disturbed her deeply- something more than their short separation. She had the marriage certificates out…and their mother's ring…

And then he saw the pen at her feet.

She felt his arms circle her waist from behind, and she turned in his embrace.

"Vi, you don't have to do this."

"No," she said gently. "It's alright. I'm alright, Klaus." Her hand smoothed over the side of his face. "I don't feel like a victim anymore."

The worry lines creased his forehead again. "You don't?"

She smiled then, kissed him softly. "I feel like we won."

Sunny tugged at her dress after a moment, to give her the pen. And she signed each certificate in turn, with her right hand and without regret.

* * *

 

He ran his thumb over her hand, the ring on her finger, as they held each other in their bed that night. Her head pressed to his shoulder, her heartbeat against his, and he didn't think he'd ever move from this spot.

Their father's ring hadn't fit him quite as well. It was slightly big, but he figured he'd grow into it, or else they could have it re-sized later on. They weren't about to purchase new rings here, even if they had wanted to. It would be a foolish risk, to draw attention to themselves over something so expensive.

He couldn't bring himself to care whether they used their parents' rings or no rings at all. Their union would never be official and legal, but that didn't matter to him.

Married or not, his life was already hers. He would give it up to her, for her, and never look back.

Violet didn't seem too troubled either- that her ring had once belonged to their mother. She was practical, first and foremost, and it would lend credibility to her disguise. _We use what we have._

But she still wore it here, where there was no need for an act…

"I love you, Violet." His voice was lost in her hair. "I'll love you forever."

"Love you," she sighed, drowsy in his arms. "Forever."

Sleep came over them, soft and dreamless, the vile monsters little more than a memory. They would be together and they would let no one stop them. Nothing could separate them now.

* * *

 

Violet opened her eyes in the early light, wondering what had roused her. Klaus was still asleep, and she eased herself out of his hold gently, to check on their sister.

There had been an odd sound, like a cat crying for food…or perhaps injured. She went to the window, pushing back the hanging blankets. There was no sign of movement, human or animal.

"Vi?" He nearly made her jump. "What's wrong? We don't have to leave for at least three hours."

She let the curtains fall. "I think there's a cat outside, at the door."

They both heard it then, and they glanced at each other.

Violet lit a candle lamp, took a broom from the hall closet, quietly. And she padded out to the front room.

Klaus was there, just behind her, and she looked down at the gun in his hand. She could only hope he wouldn't have to use it.

He was about to turn the doorknob, but she shook her head, gestured to him to move back.

She cracked the door a bit, seeing no one. And then she opened it all the way.

There was no cat, no one waiting in ambush…nothing but a large, covered picnic basket on the front steps, with two hinged flaps. They scanned the street, the other houses, but all was still. Could this be yet another trap? Had someone left a bomb on their doorstep?

_No, they don't want us dead…_ She swallowed. _They don't want me dead._

Anyone after Olaf's bounty would try to take her alive. VFD hadn't deigned to notice them, not since her birthday. And the reporters would have little to gain by killing them.

_There's only one way to find out..._

She flipped back the lid then, with the broom handle.

He saw her reaching into the basket, holding something in her arms, and he blinked in shock when she turned around. _It's a baby_. A tiny baby, bundled in a soft, pink blanket.

"Klaus, will you bring the basket in?"

He could only nod.

He returned in a few seconds, latching the door, and they studied the child in the light. Ten tiny fingers, ten toes, and wide, gray-green eyes, peering up at them with equal curiosity. She almost reminded them of Sunny.

Violet adjusted the baby in her arms, careful to support her head. "Where did you come from?"

A little hand reached up to clasp her ear, and she felt her heart melt.

There was a small paper pinned in the blanket- a letter. She pulled it free with one hand, to read it.

He cast another glance at Violet, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. She was glowing, radiant in that moment. The way she looked after a night of… His face reddened at the memories.

"Klaus..."The note fell suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth. She still held the baby secure, but she was shaking, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

His arms steadied her, as if by instinct. "What is it, Vi?"

"Beatrice." She spoke in a hushed tone, but he heard it, clear as day. Her eyes were shining when she looked to him again. "Her name is Beatrice."


	33. Epilogue

Disclaimer: standard

Warnings: incest, sexual content

Trigger Warning: mentions of rape

* * *

 

Epilogue

 

“I am not what has happened to me. I am what I have chosen to become.” 

~ Carl Jung

 

“It is necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live.”

~Alexandre Dumas; _The Count of Monte Cristo_

 

“With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.”

 ~ Max Ehrmann; _Desiderata_

* * *

 

A long corridor stretched on ahead of her, filled with shadows and dust that carried the imprint of her footsteps. Looking back, she could see them clearly in the dim torchlight, tapering off into the dark…Too easy to follow.

Thudding sounds echoed, a taunting voice. He’d find her, no matter where she went. He’d haunt her to the ends of the earth…

She ran.

The walls blurred into obsidian glass, a hall of mirrors, a maze. Her lungs were burning, out of breath, but she couldn’t stop.

The route turned and twisted, the mirrored panels shifting, boxing her in. She collided hard with one, falling against it. There was no way forward.

Her reflection stared back at her with wild eyes, pale and ghostly. The crude remnants of a bridal gown hung limply from her shoulders, the bodice half-torn, her lace skirts ripped and tattered. As if someone had-

 _No_.  She turned from it abruptly. _No mirrors._   

The world seemed to spin around her, unbalanced, and she used the wall to steady herself. She felt it then, the swelling in her stomach; unmistakable.

_You’ll never be free of me…_

She slid to the ground, curled herself into a ball, hiding her face in her arms. She couldn’t bear this…not this…

A hand brushed against her shoulder, made her gasp and scuttle backward.

She saw who it was then, an outline against the black mirrors. “Klaus!”

In a breath, he’d hauled her up, his hand warm on her face, checking for injuries. He wrapped her in his jacket, in his arms, and she clung to him.

It would be the last time.

“Klaus, he’s coming. You have to go.”

“I’m not leaving without you. I’ll-”

He was cut off as a deafening roar split the air, hurricane-like winds rushing over them. The walls shattered, glass shards whipping at their skin. Tiny cuts stung her face as he hid her against his chest.  

_It’s too late…_

The torchlight went out, the wind dying.

They shared a glance, eyes meeting in the dark.

The thuds resounded again, closer this time. 

There was a blinding flash, a burst of heat and fire. And then…silence.

She felt the rough scrabble of the ground under her, a throbbing pain in her head, where she’d fallen. The air was heavy, laced with dust and smoke.

And he lay flat on his back, unnervingly still.

 _No, please..._ She clutched his arm, tried to shake him awake.

There was no breath in him, no heartbeat.

Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. He was gone.

She froze, paralyzed as a tall form slunk in behind her, spindly hands settling on her shoulders, an iron grip. And a voice hissed in her ear, all too familiar. This was her doing, her fault. If only she’d known her place.

She was his wife. She couldn’t run.

She belonged to him now.

_My dear Violet, it’s time you learned…_

* * *

 

Violet woke with a gasp, blinking in the faint light. She felt a warm presence at her back, a strong arm wrapped close at her waist. Her first impulse was to throw it off, to run, but she stilled herself.

There was the luxury of a deep mattress, feather-down pillows and soft cotton sheets. And she was lighter somehow, smaller. She pressed a hand to her stomach.

A low, soothing glow filled the room, from an electric lamp on the nightstand beside her. She recognized the layered stone fireplace on the far wall, the notched wood of the bedpost. And to the side, long, gauzy drapes fell smoothly on a pair of French doors. 

_Our bedroom…_

She drew a deep breath, shut her eyes as the terrible tension eased from her body. 

There was no pregnancy, no need to fear the monsters. _Not anymore…_

Sometimes she still had to remind herself that this wasn’t a dream, an imaginary scene she’d conjured to escape the world. For all the lies and secrets, the false identities her family had to maintain, this was their life now. This was real.

She trusted her senses, what she could feel, what she could see… Her thin cotton nightdress, light and airy, her back against his warm, bare chest, his face nuzzled in her hair.

This was home.

Her left hand curved around his, and she glanced at it, at their matching rings. That was proof enough, if she’d needed it.

She wasn’t Violet Baudelaire anymore.

The thought warmed her and she closed her eyes, settled in against him.

On nights like this, she just needed him close, needed him to hold her safe. He always understood.

He’d want her to wake him, she knew, and it left her guilty. _He’s lost enough sleep because of me._

The bed creaked as she shifted to face him, his arm still heavy at her waist. He hadn’t stirred.

She held him gently, buried her face in his neck.  

He smelled of the sea, the beach they’d visit on days when Sunny was out of school. Salty air and sand and clear, cool water… like a scene under cloudy gray skies long ago…

They’d both grown up in an instant, tangled in the burdens of adulthood far too soon. But there was no one she’d rather have beside her, no one else in the world. He shouldered the weight with her, always, bore it all so lightly.

Her Klaus.

He was warm and giving, and so brave, so kind and unassuming, for all his brilliance. He hadn’t lost his boyish grin or the awe in his eyes when he looked at her. He made her feel alive and whole, unbroken.

She felt the heat rise in her blood, the ache nearly overwhelming. _How could I love anyone more?_

His bare skin was a map of scars and she knew each one, where he’d been hurt and where he’d healed. She loved his imperfections, loved to run her hands over them as he moved in her.   

He carried other marks too, the signs of where she’d been, soft and painless. She still felt herself color at the sight. Five on his chest from the night before, and a line on his stomach, trailing lower… Her fingers slipped over each one in turn.

This was another secret shared between them, something they did for each other now. And always, in places no one else would see…  

She dropped a soft kiss to his shoulder, felt him shift slightly, closer.

The invisible wounds were still so raw.

She could scarcely stand to look at her own scars.

The physical pain had long since faded, but the memories they evoked…That was something she couldn’t fix.

A glimpse of her reflection or her unclothed body could still send her spiraling into nightmares. Gunshots and fire and gleaming eyes, the deep, searing pain…

They had only hand mirrors in the house because of her.

But she’d seen no flashbacks in nearly eight months, no vile memories in her reflection. Not since they’d taken to this…

Now, if she caught sight of herself, she only felt the warmth of his eyes on her, the sweet ache of loving him.

And she only saw the red patches he’d kissed into her skin.  

She skimmed a hand along them, through the nightgown… down across her breasts, her stomach, the inside of her thighs…

He’d been vigorous, from the moment she’d asked for this, but he’d never once hurt her. There was no violence behind these bruises, no pain but the radiating heat he’d kindled, a near-constant fever in her skin.

They had a “marriage” of nearly three years now- bona fide and legal in appearance, if not in fact. He was hers in all the ways that mattered, brother and friend and husband…

And her partner in raising two sprightly little girls…

Few things warmed her more than watching them together, as he read to them, or helped them find constellations with the telescope out on the balcony. 

She glanced to the small sound monitor hooked to the headboard, a listening device she’d set up for the room next door. It had been the only way she could let the girls out of her sight, let them sleep in separate quarters.

She had to see them.

This was a familiar inclination, being restless- a habit that she couldn’t quite break. She’d grown so used to catching sleep in brief stints, and often doing without it. Klaus had the same difficulties, she knew. They rarely slept for more than four hours at a time.

He was so completely at ease now. It seemed unbearable to move, to leave him.  

She forced herself up, slipped a pillow into his arms.   _I’ll just be a moment,_ she told him silently.

There was no door between the two rooms, only a dark green curtain, heavy enough to block the light from her night lamp.  She pushed it aside as she entered the children’s room. 

Moonlight streamed through the window on the far wall, spilling over two small figures, safe in their beds. Six-year-old Sunny, with a full head of blonde curls, and a smaller girl with elfin features, snuggled against a teddy bear. Her hair blended in with the stuffed animal, nearly the same rich, chestnut brown. 

Violet couldn’t help smiling, and she felt it linger. That bear was well-loved, to say the least. _She can’t sleep without it._  

She tucked the blankets up around each of them, kissed their foreheads.

They seemed almost ethereal now, angelic in sleep. Her sister, lively as ever, although she’d seen more of danger and death than many would in a lifetime.

And her sweet, tiny daughter, whose origins remained a mystery.  

What a patchwork they were, her little family. 

She knew what she could live through now, and it was more than she’d ever imagined.

But if something ever happened to either of them…

She closed her eyes against the rush of memories, the old terrors.  No one would violate this place. No one would harm these children. _I’ll make sure of it._

She crossed the room carefully, so as not to wake them. The window had been fitted with opaque, white curtains that reflected the moonlight, but she wasn’t concerned with that now. 

The pane had a security alarm, as they all did. There was a tiny black box in the lower right-hand corner of the window frame, and she found it easily. A red light told her it was armed and working properly.

The reassurance was like a tonic.      

She returned to her own room then, to check the identical alarm on the French doors. They looked out on the balcony, and a walled courtyard one story below.

In daylight, it was a small garden, with vegetables and herbs for Sunny’s culinary experiments. But in the dark, she could only think of the dangers it might conceal.

Motion sensors lined the wall and the perimeter of their modest little townhouse. Flashing lights and alarms would greet anyone who entered the courtyard uninvited.

There was only silence now, the deserted street, and the neighbors’ darkened houses. _Everyone else is asleep,_ she thought ruefully. None of the neighbors worried as she did, although some of them had noticed…

They often joked about her being overprotective, asking if she had the Hope Diamond hidden away somewhere, or perhaps pirate gold. Klaus heard his share of it too, but he always laughed them off, never seemed to mind the lighthearted ribbing.

He knew she wasn’t guarding against imagined fears.

Still, she couldn’t help wondering if they might be right. Her precautions seemed increasingly irrational.

Peru was nearly all they’d hoped it would be. They were safely ensconced in a quiet seaside community, and surrounded by other expatriates no less. It was easy to blend in here.

They lived simply, no more remarkable than anyone else.  And crime was rare enough. _At least, the  random kind..._

She didn’t want to become another Aunt Josephine, reclusive and terrified of her own shadow.

But she couldn’t quite trust the peace they’d found. After so many years of incessant vigilance, the anxiety was like a scar.          

She thought of the letter they’d written to that small-town sheriff, with the grim news of five deaths, the locations of the bodies. They’d sent it in France. It couldn’t be traced to them here. No one from the old life could find them. And yet…

Her eyes drifted to the fireplace, the rectangular stones in different earth colors. One hid a small switch, a compartment she’d built into the hearth. Only she and Klaus knew that it existed.

She’d installed it there, in their bedroom, where they could watch over it. But half of her wanted to forget it entirely.

It held the files they’d taken from their parents’ lockbox in Montreal, volumes of journals, reports, and photographs. She didn’t know what they contained; she hadn’t opened them.

From the moment they’d found the files, she’d been torn between curiosity and fear. Their parents had kept those papers carefully guarded, separate from their other records and stored outside of the country.

The conclusion was deeply unsettling. The files were their parents’ deepest secrets… secrets that had already cost them all dearly. What would that knowledge do to Klaus and Sunny, to her?

They were a different kind of family now, with a new little daughter and sister, a new life.  It seemed so tenuous, a paper-thin façade stretched over too many grim truths. _We can’t afford to fall apart._

But Klaus didn’t see it that way. He thought it would be far worse not to know.

He was still a researcher, after all. He had his reasons.

If she dreaded what the files contained, he was just as troubled by the questions their parents had left behind. Especially when the answers might be here, right at their fingertips…

She shook her head, tried to force the thoughts away. She couldn’t dispose of those files, couldn’t bear to look at them, and she knew he wouldn’t do it without her.

It was one of their few serious disagreements, the only one they hadn’t yet managed to resolve. They were at an impasse. 

And so the files had traveled with them, the last vestiges of their past, packed away in hiding.

_We have to do something. We can’t just keep them here forever._

No matter what the papers might reveal, they were exceedingly dangerous- a bomb waiting to detonate.  If anyone should find them…

She was half-startled by a thrashing sound in the bed, his voice murmuring her name.

A wave of tenderness swept over her. It was his worst fear, waking up to find her gone.  

She eased back under the sheets beside him.

His pulse was racing.

“Shh… I’m here.” She touched his face and kissed him softly, whispering comfort as his arms tightened around her.

She laid her head on his chest, her body pressed tight to his. He always needed her warmth, her heartbeat, before he could be calmed.

 “Vi…” His voice shuddered through her and she closed her eyes, hurting inside.

It was a quiet understanding between them: no discussion, no details when the nightmares came. They’d protect each other, even in this.

But she never had to ask what he’d seen; there was no need.

They’d lost each other so many times in dreams.

He felt her hair on his face, under his hands, smooth as silk. It was so long now, nearly halfway to her waist, falling softly around her shoulders.  She only wore it down this way in the sanctuary of their bedroom, with him.

That thought grounded him, held him firmly in the moment.  And he tried to forget the thought of other hands on her, vile and grasping, his fear of letting go. _You can’t have her._

He tucked her close against his body, felt her nestle into him. She was his, as long as she’d allow it, and no one would hurt her again. He’d do anything, be anything she needed, to keep her safe.

“Mmm….,” she sighed. “That’s better.”  There was a smile in her voice, light, happy, and it seared him.

She had to be tired, he knew, but it was always the same. She’d kiss him awake from the nightmares, let him touch her and hold her and be inside of her. Always soft and warm and wanting, always his…  

He never could deserve her.                                                                                                                                                     

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Vi.”          

“You didn’t,” she said. “I was looking in on the girls.” Her voice fell softer then. “I’m sorry I left.”

He swept her hair back from her face, kissed her forehead. _Another nightmare.._. And she was worried about him. “Are they okay?”

She nodded slightly. 

“You know I’m here,” he said. “I’m always here.”

She felt the weight on his shoulders, the heartache for her, and she didn’t want this conversation, didn’t want to reignite his pain with her own.

Not when they had far more pleasant ways to spend the time...

She nudged her nose against his then, sipped at his mouth. And she felt him sigh.

They shared a small smile, and he could see the light in her, the relief and warmth.

She allowed no one else to have this, to see her this way, all tender and vulnerable.

He was the only one who knew the heat in her eyes, the warm embrace of her body, the way she needed to be held when she cried. Her secret smiles and soft touches, the hushed sounds she made when they came together… These were his alone.

“Hey.” He managed a grin.  “What was that for?”

 “For being you.”

She laughed, breathless as he tipped them both onto their sides among the bedclothes.

Her fingers brushed against his cheek, her beautiful eyes so intent.  And he caught her meaning, without a word. _I’m glad it’s you_. 

She did that so often when they woke to each other, as if she’d half-expected he wouldn’t be there. As if she’d feared he would be someone else…

It broke his heart a little each time.

It made his mind flash across a white wedding dress, broken screams and flickering darkness.

And it left him desperate for her, again and again, for the assurance that she was safe, and here, and his...

He melted with her in a slow, soft kiss, his hand cupping her face.

His skin was rough, his touch so gentle, and she sighed into his mouth.

A low moan slipped from him as she parted her lips, let him breathe her breath, warm and velvet smooth.

It made his head spin, made him want more of her.  

She loved the way he kissed her, so completely. As if he were still committing her to memory, even after all this time… As if each one might be their last.

And he was there, hard and solid, settled just where she wanted him most. She hooked her legs around his hips, urging him closer.

He rocked himself against her, set off the blinding white lights in her mind. She tried to move with him, but his hand stilled her, fighting to slow down.

They took care of each other, always, never selfish or demanding, never unkind. And she loved him so much…so much…

He made quick work of the buttons on her nightdress, the line unconventionally long, down to the hem. She could cover up immediately if one of the girls should come in, but it allowed for easy access…

She wore it for him. The thought still left him in awe.

Cool air glanced across her as he kissed her neck, his hands warm and knowing, sculpting her. He drew light circles with this thumb, keeping her at the height of sensitivity. And his tongue was there, against her, moving in slow synchronization…

He loved every inch of her, loved to kiss and nip and suckle until they were both lost in the deep, heady warmth, her arms and legs curled around him.

She pulled him in closer, almost unconsciously, her legs squeezing him hard, the pressure sending jolts though her body.

For all the rules they’d broken, the prospect of ruin if their old lives were uncovered, they could do this so easily. 

He felt her grip redouble as he kissed her mouth, let his weight rest on her, pressing her down into the mattress. Her nails dug into his back, the tiny pain lighting all his senses.

He needed her so badly, her sweet, soft skin, her body shuddering for him as the tension lifted, then taut and gasping as it built again. In these moments, she was only his.  

Her hand made a smooth glide along the length of him, tugging at the waistband of his pants.  He helped her slide them down and off, not caring where they landed.

She pushed him gently to his back, retraced her earlier marks in light, fluttering kisses…. leaving new ones here and there, loving him with her fingertips…

The girls would sleep for a while yet. They didn’t have to hurry now.

Her lips glanced over his ear, his neck and shoulder, warm and soft and tender.  And she lingered on a scar near his throat, made him stifle a gasp, the healed skin still sensitive to her touches, her kiss.

 “Violet…” There was an ache in his voice, a low growl and she loved the sounds he made, the evidence that he was hers.

She knew his body better than any laws of physics, knew how to draw him just to the edge and keep him there…

Her fingers curled around him, a heady pressure, her mouth so soft and warm… And he tried to hold on, to let her have her way with him. But it was just too much…

“Vi, wait.” He stilled her gently, pulled her up to lie on the pillows beside him, breathing hard.

Her eyes were alight, her skin tinted in a rosy glow, nearly matching the remnants of his kisses. He wanted to taste it, to feel the heat bloom in every inch of her body. 

He hauled her into a kiss, felt the hum in her throat, her hands clutching at his back.

She whimpered at the surge of deep, pulsing heat, her mouth captive under his. And she knew just what he meant to do with the rest of her...   He kissed circles on her breasts, her stomach, lower and lower as she squirmed slightly under him… tongue and lips and teeth, nipping lightly, rough stubble against sensitive skin…   

She swayed her hips with him, head falling back as his tongue swirled in her navel.

And he met her rhythm with his mouth.

She forgot everything but the soft, searing pressure, her hips palmed in warm, strong hands, his face buried there against her, so intimate...

He felt her muscles contract, a slight, quivering cry, and he knew she was struggling to keep silent.

But her fingers curled over his, her ankles crossed behind his shoulders, and he only kissed his way in deeper. She wanted him and he couldn’t’ stop himself. Unless she told him to, he couldn’t…

He took her until she was rocking softly, breathing out his name. She was so ready, so incredibly sensitive after he kissed her there. He could send her reeling with even the slightest movement…

She let out a sob as his hand found her, prolonging the sensation.

His mouth was hard on hers, almost bruising, her arms circling his shoulders. She’d ached for this, the heat of him deep inside, his warm breaths drifting in her body.

And she knew, vaguely, that he meant to swallow her cries. They belonged to him too, meant only for him…

He sank himself in then, felt her gasping, toppling in soft vibrations.

She threaded her fingers in his hair, kissed him as they moved together, bodies gliding, flowing, warm and smooth.

They were like alchemy, like chemical fusion, one burst after another, and another. Breathless moans and clasping hands, the flood of life and strength between them… the sweet burn of completion…It was all too much…

She cried into his neck, curled around him as they eased down from the heights, and she felt the tremors shuddering through his body.

His hold on her was fierce but so heartbreakingly tender, tears hot on her skin as they clung together.

It was safe to feel here, safe to cry, and they had each other. That was a mercy beyond all others.

* * *

 

She let her eyes slip shut, cuddled against him as his hand played in the ends of her hair, trailing up and down her back. He was so warm, his body still cradled in hers, and she felt the steady beat of his pulse, felt every breath he took.

Time seemed infinite here, soft and still, until they heard the chatter of voices in the next room.

It was the signal they knew best now, the sounds of the morning.

* * *

 

The air was warm and breezy, a hint of salt wafting in the air, the large palm trees providing just the right amount of shade. He leaned back against one, his eyes on the shoreline, where Violet was taking her turn with the girls. They’d built an intricate sand castle, complete with turrets of different sizes, and even a moat. 

Children’s voices rang out softly, laughing. He flipped his journal closed, his latest notes forgotten for the moment.

They were growing so fast. Little Bea, all precocious and inquisitive, and his baby sister, no longer a baby at all… She was a big sister in her own right now, selfless and caring and surprisingly patient. And Bea adored her. She’d taken to the role quite naturally, it seemed. He felt a little more proud of her every time he saw them together.

They had their squabbles too, to be sure, but they were inseparable on most days.

Sunny knew exactly what a big sister should be. _She learned from the best._

He saw her then, her hair tied up in a red silk ribbon, a hint of color in her face, eyes sparkling.  _Violet…_

She was captivating, entirely in her element, devising irrigation channels for the castle moat. And he remembered the rain-catching system she’d developed for the garden. It was brilliant, really. She’d already sold two variations of the design under a pseudonym.

She let the girls help with her inventions, if they wanted, even when she could’ve done things far more quickly on her own. That never seemed to matter.

They were raising children, teaching them. All other concerns were secondary.                               

He loved the light in her eyes when she looked at them, the way she loved their little family, loved him…

They were partners in this, as in everything, trading off between time with the children and their own individual projects. It was healthy to spend some time apart, or so he’d read. And besides, they needed their respective careers to explain their income, if anyone should inquire. 

But he never could stand to be away for long. And if he ever tried, she’d always come to find him.

They’d been each other’s favorite adviser and sounding board for as long as he could remember…even as small children, with a revolving door of friends and adults around. That held as true as ever, it seemed. In so many ways, they’d resumed their old patterns.

But now, they sought each other out for new reasons as well…

Memories of the morning rushed in him, made him want to catch her waist and let her hair down, to run his hands through it as he kissed her.

Had they always been inevitable?                                   

He couldn’t help but wonder at the “what ifs,” the nature of it all. Were they just pawns in a game of chance or human intrigue? Did they owe it all to Olaf and his machinations?  Or had it been predetermined somehow, a test, a grand design by fate….

There were no answers he could fathom.

He’d authored enough books to fill half a library shelf, but no accomplishment could rival the life he’d built with Violet; their warm, safe home and happy children.

How different things might’ve been, if their parents had survived.

Would he still be able to read her eyes or sleep with her curled in his arms?

Would he know how it felt to see her as a mother, all softhearted and gentle and fierce?

Would he be sitting here, watching them, when he was supposed to be writing?

_No…It wouldn’t be the same._

The road would’ve been far easier.

His sisters would’ve been protected. They might never have been terrorized or forced to see the worst in people. Sunny wouldn’t know nearly so much about loss. And Violet…

She might never have been a target.

 _Maybe I could’ve prevented it, in that other life._ His heart constricted at the memories.

They would’ve had their parents’ love and the attendant expectations- more to sacrifice, more to lose.  A world of opportunities, formal education and… proper decorum….

He swallowed hard.                                                                                                                   

He wouldn’t have her, not as he did now, wouldn’t get to see Sunny growing up day by day.

And the little girl with gray-green eyes, who called him “papa”… _We never would’ve met her at all_. 

The thought pierced him.

Violet glanced up then, as if she’d felt his eyes on her. She gave him a soft smile, understanding.

He often had to stay nearby, where he could see them, if he wanted to get any work done. She’d never fault him for it. _I’m no different._

But his writing journal was shut now, disregarded on the picnic blanket beside him. He seemed tense, the way that meant his thoughts were troubled.

She held his gaze, tipped her head toward the beach- a silent gesture. _Come here._   

Somehow, she could always make his mind go quiet.

But their littlest girl cried out, the moment broken as she burst into tears. She’d bumped into one of the turrets by mistake, knocking it over.

She ran to Violet, hiding her face in her mother’s skirts.

“Shh…It’s alright.” Violet hugged her close, voice soft and loving. “It’s perfectly alright.” The little girl looked to her with mournful eyes, and Violet brushed the tears from her upturned face.

He thought his heart would break. 

 “Don’t be sad, Bea,” Sunny touched her arm gently. “We can build it again.”

He was with them then, and Bea reached for him, hugging his neck as he swept her up. He spun her around, in the way that always seemed to distract her, and she was laughing when they came to a halt.

Violet shared a glance with him, her eyes soft as they flickered to his, adoring.

“What about your writing?”

He gave her a lopsided smile.  “It can wait.”

 

* * *

 

 

There was so much of happiness in this life now.

A smattering of clouds half-hid the early afternoon sun as he sat in the shade with Violet. All was calm, little Bea napping on the blanket beside her, and they watched as Sunny skipped rocks on the water.  

She felt him push a stray hair from her face, toying lightly with her ribbon. And she knew he wanted to unloose her hair, let it fall free so he could bury his hands in it. _Later,_ she promised with her eyes.

He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers, and she held his arm, laid her head on his shoulder.

It was an indulgence, being here together in a contented, easy silence. They never had to speak needlessly, to fill in the gaps. Not with each other.

And they couldn’t call it “boring,” not after all they’d come through.  

It was peace.  

A couple strolled by, down near the shoreline, and waved a greeting. Klaus recognized them as passing acquaintances, friends of their next-door neighbors. They seemed pleasant and kindly, harmless enough, although he couldn’t help but wish them away just now.

Violet pulled apart from him, slightly chagrined, and they waved back.

He knew she wanted to avoid gossip or any undue attention. He could only hope that no one gave much thought to them at all.  Attention was a dangerous thing.

During their travels, a few proper ladies had remarked on their “unseemly” affection for one another, scandalized if she embraced him, or he slid an arm around her waist.

They always tried to be reserved, didn’t want to offend anyone, but much of it had been unconscious- little gestures of comfort and habit that had developed between them.

Nearly everyone was cordial and friendly here. No one ever seemed to notice. Their little family had plenty of surface friendships, a kind of acceptance they’d rarely known, and he was grateful.

To anyone observing from the outside, they were an ordinary family, more or less; a young couple with two little daughters, not so different from any of the other residents. 

But they were uncommonly happy, it seemed.

He heard it nearly everywhere they went, how blessed his family was, how fortunate, enviable…

And, nearly as often, he hardly knew what to say.           

“Vi,” he asked softly, “do you believe in luck?”

“No,” she said. “I believe in us. I think we’ve made our own luck.”  

Her face was tinted pink, and he felt the familiar pang in his chest. “People tell me all of the time- how lucky I am. It’s not as if I disagree, but… it just seems strange to hear them say it. They think we’re the lucky ones.”

The color deepened, but there was a hint of laughter in her eyes. “I hear it too.”

“That I’m lucky?” He grinned and she jostled him lightly.

“You know what I mean.” She nestled into him again, squeezed his hand. “A writer has a certain appeal, I suppose.”

“I’d rather be with an inventor,” he said. “Someone who sees possibility where no one else does…who can build something from nothing.”

He felt her smile.

“Not from nothing. There’s always something to start with.” 

Out of all the endless possibilities, the paths not taken, he couldn’t regret that they’d found themselves here. It was painful to admit, a disquieting thought.

“We wouldn’t have this, would we?” His voice dropped lower, pensive. “If Mom and Dad were still alive, if it weren’t for the misfortune, we wouldn’t be here.”

A beat passed and she lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she told him. “It doesn’t matter what might’ve happened. This is what we have now. This is what is.” She ran a hand along the side of his face. “I can’t imagine being here with anyone else.” She shook her head. “I don’t want anyone else.”

His arms circled her comfortably, her back to his chest, and she folded her hands over his.

The old life seemed distant, like a passing dream.

He kissed the side of her temple, his voice a murmur in her ear. “What do you think they’d say, if they could see us now?”

 _Our parents…_ She’d wondered about that more than once. They had always been a kind and loving presence, when they weren’t off on one extended trip or another. They’d encouraged the unique skills and interests of their children, taught them independence, persistence, and the incalculable value of family...

And she remembered the letter from Europe, that final letter. She could almost dare to think they might be proud.

“They wanted us to look after each other,” she said. “Maybe they’d understand."

* * *

 

Thoughts of their parents lingered on into the evening, as they sat by the master bedroom fireplace with Bea and Sunny. A warm fire blazed on the hearth, a few picture albums strewn about on the floor, and they looked through the images, page by page….Beatrice as a tiny baby, the four of them in various locations around the world. The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Jet d’Eau in Lake Geneva…. They’d been tourists, as far as anyone would ever know. 

Violet held her daughter on her lap, one arm around Sunny, who was cuddled against her side. And they listened as Klaus read a story of their travels, one of the many he’d recorded in a journal for Bea. The stories were reassuring, the best memories of their time abroad, and she always wanted to hear one or two before bed. It had become a kind of nightly ritual for all of them.

“I was there.” She glanced up from a picture of the Chateau de Versailles. “Why don’t I remember?”

“You were just a baby.” Violet smiled. “We may go back again one day.”

The little girl frowned then. “Where are Sunny’s baby pictures?”

Violet glanced up at Klaus. They’d been expecting this, questions about the past. But she wouldn’t frighten their small daughter with the truth. _Not all of it, at least. She’s too young…_

How could they tell her of burnt homes, murdered parents, and monsters that were real? “Our house burned down in a fire, before you were born. We lost all of our pictures then.” Violet kissed her forehead, held her close. “That won’t happen here,” she said. “We won’t let it happen ever again.”

Wide, sad eyes peered up into hers.

“But you haven’t got any pictures.” She sounded as if she would cry.                                                                     

“Yes, we do.” Sunny told her. “We’ve got these new pictures.”

“Hey,” he said. “It’s almost bed time. Why don’t we read ‘The Baby in the Basket?’  ” She seemed to perk up then. It was her favorite.

He opened the journal to the first page, and began to read.

It was a story of a lonely family. They loved each other very much, but something was missing. Until one day, when they heard a cat outside the window.

But it wasn’t a cat at all…

“It was me!” She chimed in, with the ending she knew by heart. 

When the story ended, she was half-asleep in Violet’s arms. He stood, gathered her up to tuck her in bed.

Violet smoothed Sunny’s hair back. “I wish we had baby pictures of you too.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind. I’m glad we don’t have pictures from before.” She gave Violet a small smile. “I’d rather look at the future anyway.”

Violet pulled her into a gentle hug. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

“I know.” Sunny squeezed her back, hard. “I’m proud of you too.”  And she flashed a grin before she scampered off to bed.

Violet hugged her knees, alone with only her thoughts and the fire. It was still burning strong, though they’d lit it nearly an hour before.

Her eyes fell to the hidden compartment in the hearth, her little sister’s voice in her head. _I’d rather look at the future…_  

But it was interrupted by another voice, a warm touch on her shoulder.

”Vi?”

She took his hand as he moved to sit at her side.

He drew her to him, one hand framing her face, and they kissed as if they’d been parted for days.  

He untied her ribbon gently, let her hair down, his hands sliding deep in the soft strands. Need thrummed in her and she gave herself up to him, content to let him do as he wanted.

He only ever wanted to love her, to make her happy. 

They were both lightheaded when they came up for air, all dizzy and disheveled, and they laughed softly at themselves. They could be young here, with each other.

Violet sobered after a moment, her hands gentle on his arms. She couldn’t help thinking of their little daughter. “She’ll want to know more someday, Klaus. She’ll want answers.”

He sighed, releasing the breath he’d been holding. “Do you think Mom and Dad were ever going to tell us?”

Her eyes were sad. “How can you tell a child about those things? How can you do it without shattering their security forever?”  

“We found out anyway, Vi. We had to learn the hard way.” He glanced toward the next room, where the girls were sleeping. “What if that happens to them, because of our secrets?”  

“It won’t,” she said. “We won’t let it happen, Klaus.” There was a hard resolve in her voice, and he looked to her sharply.

Before he could blink, she was approaching the hearth, opening the panel. And she pulled the files from it.

She felt him watching her and she squared her shoulders, met his gaze steadily. “I think it’s time,” she said. “Don’t you?”

* * *

 

They read through the reports piece by piece, photos and documents and letters. Much of it was about Olaf, how he’d become a high-ranking member of VFD, though in truth he’d been set on destroying it all along.

He’d come from a tragic childhood, not so different from the one he’d forced on them…orphaned as a young boy…orphaned by a fire…. arson suspected but unproven.

He’d been left alone, to be raised by a succession of inept guardians, most of them cruel or neglectful.  

His troupe was profiled as well, with histories just as wretched and disturbing.

More than once, Violet had to steel herself, overwhelmed by the memories, the injustice of it all. It was discomfiting, to feel sorrow and empathy for such horrid people. They’d been his accomplices. And they were still free...  

But Klaus was there, his arms tight around her when she needed him, when the memories hurt too much. They held onto each other.

And then there was the matter of their own family history. Letters and journals carried hints of it: a great-grandfather they’d never heard of, long-dead before Violet was born. He’d been responsible for most of the Baudelaire fortune, evidently; criminal enough to rival Olaf and equally as cunning. He’d committed arson and murder and other untold atrocities, and always managed to evade prosecution.  

It was nearly all she’d feared.  

Their parents had benefited from his actions, the wealth he’d amassed, and they hadn’t been able to  live with that.

But there was no one left to compensate, no surviving relatives or descendants of the people he’d harmed. So they had tried to stop others like him. They’d joined VFD.

It explained why they’d been away so often, traveling all across the country; why they’d made the trip to Europe.

Klaus set down the document he’d been reading, and he turned toward her. “You were right, Vi. Mom and Dad did have a plan for us.” It was no surprise at all that he remembered. “We were supposed to go to a couple in Amsterdam. They weren’t even in VFD.”

She slipped her hand into his, felt him clutch it tight.

“He must’ve intervened,” she said, and he nodded. They both fell quiet then. It didn’t bear thinking about, the likely fate of those people.

 “How could they do that, Vi? How could they just leave us like that?”

Her free hand slid against his face. No explanation would be enough for him, not when he could hardly bear a day without his family. He’d never leave their girls, not if he had a choice. He’d never leave her.  

She saw the silent questions in his eyes, the acute doubt and injury. It wasn’t the first time. “They loved us, Klaus. I know they did.” She couldn’t believe otherwise.

Perhaps that was the answer. 

“They wanted to make things right,” she said. “I think they did it for us. They wanted to change the legacy, for us.”

He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. It was impossible to forget Olaf, an indelible part of their parents’ story.  “They left us with a tainted legacy too.” He couldn’t hide the bitterness he felt. “They left us with _him._ ”

She could only look at him, tears brimming in her eyes, and he wished he could take it all back. The pain was still so vivid, even after all this time. She knew as well as he did. That couldn’t be denied.

But not all truths had to be spoken.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, heartsick, but she shook her head.  She wrapped him in her arms then, held him firm against her, and he pressed his face into her neck.  

 “He was evil,” she said quietly, after a while. “But he wasn’t born that way.”  

“No,” he sighed. “He lost everything.  I think he hated people who had what he’d lost. People like us.”

She saw the girls in her mind again. _What if that happens to them, because of our secrets?_ The words stung in her.

She couldn’t seem to stop the tears.

“They can never know what he did to me, Klaus. They can’t. It would only burden them. They can never know what…what we...”

He held her closer, as if he could protect her somehow. She breathed him in, warm and calming.

“You’re safe now, Vi. You never have to relive any of that. Those secrets can’t hurt the girls. They can’t hurt us anymore.”  He slid his fingers up and down her spine. “We don’t have to say anything.”   

She turned her head slightly, closed her eyes. They’d been so false with their little daughter. “Bea can never know who we really are.”

A sudden thought swept through them at the same time, and they locked eyes with each other.

_She knows who we are…_

It didn’t matter who they had been.

They weren’t the Baudelaires anymore.

He kissed her forehead and her mouth, building the heat in her slowly, stealing her thoughts away. She sighed, relaxing into his embrace.

She could stay this way all night, enveloped in a soft glow of security. Nothing seemed quite so terrible now. 

The old world would always be with them, fragments and broken pieces that cut like glass. It never really went away. It was their burden, but they would carry it together, and let it die when they did.  

After a moment, he grabbed the paper beside them, crumpled it into a ball. And he tossed it into the fire.

“Klaus…” Her eyes were wide, astonished, and he grinned.

“We should get rid of these files,” he said.

She could’ve kissed him a thousand times over.

They burned their parents’ documents that night, let the flames erase the nightmares of the past. They’d keep their memories, their fortune, and the bonds of family. Nothing else would follow them.  

She lay in his arms, curled against him as they watched the last image of Olaf go up in smoke. It was cathartic somehow, a cleansing destruction.

The Baudelaires were gone and they would not come again.

The fire began to wane, little by little, the shadows growing deeper in the room.

In the corner of her eye, she could almost see a little dark-haired boy, starved for care and kindness…utterly alone in the world. She felt the harsh, bitter cold inside, the walls like an impenetrable fortress, eerily familiar. Deprivation and sorrow, the deadening of feeling, for survival, the isolation….

She knew it all too well.  

How much worse it might’ve been without her brother and sister.

They’d had something to hold onto, the three of them. _We had each other._   

Klaus felt her go stiff, her hand gripping his shirt.

“He was all alone.” She sounded distant, far away.

Her memories were always worse in the dark.

“Vi, let me turn on the lamp. I’ll be right back.”

But she shook her head. “I don’t need it, Klaus.”

She crossed her arms over his chest then, rested her chin on them. Her eyes were soft, a deep green in the firelight.

He let his hand slide in her hair again, his thumb smoothing over her cheek. It seemed nearly impossible, to love anyone so much.

 “We are the lucky ones,” she said. “We were never alone.”

They brought each other home, all soft sighs and gentle warmth, the dance between them as natural as time.

The world was quiet, but for the slight crackling of the fire. And the last embers slowly flickered out.

~FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this completed story posted on fanfiction.net for several years and it has meant a lot to me. The new Netflix series inspired me to come back to the pairing, so I thought I'd share it here as well. 
> 
> This story is based on the 2004 film with elements from the books incorporated in. 
> 
> For those who might prefer to skip the plot, the following chapters have love scenes:
> 
> Chapters 9 (Contact), 10 (Beautiful), 11 (The First Time), 12 (What Endures), 14 (Beneath the Surface), 16 (Children of Misfortune), 21 (He Knows), 23 (One of Us), 32(The Other Side of the Fire), and 33(Epilogue).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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